


Offer Me That Deathless Death

by vernie_klein



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A love Story, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boyking!Sam, Canon-Typical Violence, Consensual Infidelity, Demon!Dean, Happily Ever After, Infidelity, M/M, Supernatural and J2 Big Bang Challenge 2015, Which leads to, Wincest - Freeform, alternate season 10, with a side of Destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 18:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4359062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vernie_klein/pseuds/vernie_klein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the Love Story of Demon!Dean and BoyKing!Sam. Or, how one Demon and his little brother overthrew the King of Hell. The story of an Angel and his Human. A story of Betrayal and Forgiveness. Of a Hunt gone wrong, and one gone right. Of how even when things seem their bleakest, there is always light at the end of the tunnel. It just may be Fire and Brimstone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Offer Me That Deathless Death

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is... My 1st submission into that great thing called the SPN_J2_BigBang. I have always wanted to do a Big Bang, but never had the balls. I still don't have balls, but I hope I wrote one hell of a good story. Some thanks are involved here. The first goes out to nomercles, the wonderful artist who picked my summary from all the other submissions. She did beautiful work for this story and is a phenomenal artist. Thank you! The second shout out goes to my loverly alpha/beta HecatesKiss. She keeps me sane, keeps me grounded, and even though she is a days drive away, she feels like she is sitting in the room with me every time I write. Loves you, Em!!!! ***huggles*** The next shout out goes to JayEz. Without Jules by my side, I never would have taken the plunge to write my first fan fiction a few years ago. Thank you for being a great beta and for putting up with my grammar issues. Lastly, I want to thank my daughter, Bri. She is the one who introduced me to fan fiction. She is turning 18 on 26 July and heading off for college in a month. I can't believe that the day my 13 year old little girl said "Mom... There is some great Harry Potter fan fiction out there. Just try it." would have been such a huge turning point in my life. I have made some really great friends in this and other Fandoms, and this story is dedicated to all of them.
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> **Now to the pesky disclaimer... This is a work of fiction. The characters within belong to a myriad of people who are not me. Crowley’s speech to Dean is directly taken from the Transcript of Episode 9x23 _Do You Believe in Miracles?_ This credit goes fully to Jeremy Carver. Thank you for your lovely words. I can’t write Crowley convincingly, so this will have to do!**

 

**No Masters or Kings**

** **

Sam placed his brother gently on the bed.

He smiled sadly at the sag of the memory foam and brushed a tear from his face. He quickly made his way to the sink and wet a small cloth and wrung it out in the shallow basin. Sam hurried back to his brother and tenderly wiped the blood from his face. He lingered over Dean’s impossibly long eyelashes and took in each freckle with every sweep of the soft cloth. Sam’s couldn’t help the tears that mixed with the blood still spotting his dead brother’s cheeks. He shook his head, unable to believe that his brother was really gone this time. Sam got that there was no coming back from this death. The First Blade had made that permanent.

Sam hastily swiped the back of his hand across his own face and blinked the unfallen tears from his eyes. He hurried to finish cleaning Dean’s face and arranged his hands on his chest. Sam worried the now pink washcloth with his fingers and sighed.

“Dean…” Sam closed his eyes and flopped down in the chair next to the head of the bed. “I… This is hard, you know? I wish that I could tell you I forgive you. I do… really. For everything. I’m gonna get you back, Dean. I need to tell you to your face. I can’t- This is all… It’s just not fair!”

Sam stood and threw the blood-soaked rag into the sink. His hands shook in fury and he tried his hardest to calm the storm brewing within. He couldn’t leave Dean like this- dead. Not on his watch. Sam knew what he had to do. He ran down the hallway and pushed open his door.

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

Crowley placed the First Blade on Dean’s chest and wrapped his stiffening fingers around the hilt of the knife. He stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels as he tilted his head slightly, his red tie swaying back and forth.

“Your brother, bless his soul is summoning me as I speak. Make a deal. Bring you back. It's exactly what I was talking about wasn't it? It's all become so... expected .” Crowley scowled. “You have to believe me, when I suggested you take on the Mark of Cain I didn't know this was going to happen. Not really. I mean I might not have told you the entire truth. But I never lied, I never _lied,_  Dean. That's important. It's fundamental.” Crowley turned and sat down in the chair Sam had vacated minutes before.

“But, there is one story about Cain that I might have forgotten to tell you. Apparently he too was willing to accept death rather than becoming the killer the Mark wanted him to be. So he took his own life with the Blade. He died. Except as rumor has it, the Mark never quite let go. You can understand why I never spoke of this. Why set hearts aflutter with mere  _speculation_? It wasn't until you summoned me, no it wasn't truly 'til you left the cheeseburger uneaten... and I began to let myself believe, maybe miracles do come true.”

Crowley took a deep breath and leaned closer into Dean’s space. He adjusted Dean’s hands around the First Blade and squinted his eyes as he spoke.

“Listen to me Dean Winchester, what you're feeling right now is not death, it's _life_. A new kind of life. Open your eyes Dean, see what I see, feel what I feel. Let's go take a howl at that moon.”

**~~.~~.~~.~~**

Dean’s hands tightened around the First Blade and his eyes opened. They were Black.

“Dean… How _nice_ of you to finally join me.” Crowley stood from his chair and held out a hand. “We have much work to do.”

“Where’s my brother?” Dean’s voice was whiskey-rough from misuse and death. He batted Crowley’s hand and winced as he pushed himself to sit up. “Where’s Sam?”

“Your brother is of no use to you anymore, Dean. Sam is finished, he’s worthless. What does a Knight of Hell need with a pathetic  _human_?” Crowley smirked eyebrow raised. He reached out a second time to help pull Dean to standing.

“Fuck off, Crowley.” Dean stood and pitched the First Blade onto the floor. It clattered across the hard surface and landed with a thump against one of the legs of Dean’s desk. “Sam is more important than the Mark of Cain… more important than the Blade… and certainly more important than anything the _King of Hell_ can give a _Winchester_.”

Dean pushed Crowley against the open bedroom door and crowded his space. He jammed the King of Hell further in the hard oak before dropping his hands. Dean scoffed at Crowley’s ashen face, shook his head and wrenched open the door, shoving him out of his way. He took off down the hall, stopping first in Sam’s doorway. Dean took in the half open drawers, the button down shirts, some sliding off the hangers that cluttered the floor. Dean turned from the mess and ran toward the library. He skidded in front of the archway and yelled, “Sam!” before realizing his brother wasn’t there either.

Dean took a deep breath and walked to the main room. He figured Sam wouldn’t be here, but needed to check. He picked up the knocked over bottle of whiskey. Cracking the seal, he downed half the amber liquid in a few swallows. He slammed the bottle back on the table and made his way to the last place he thought Sam may be.

**~~..~~..~~**

Dean wrenched open the door to the dungeon and stopped dead in his tracks. Sam was crosslegged on the floor, his head in his hands, as heart wrenching sobs left his body. Dean heard whispers of _Cas_ and _Help me, help him._  He stepped forward a few feet and heard the guilt in Sam’s voice. The prevailing words _I can’t live without him_ registered clearer in Dean’s ears.

Dean knew that Sam was aware Cas wouldn’t- couldn’t answer him. But Sam was praying anyway. It was clear to Dean that Sam had finally broken.

Dean lowered his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. He scrunched his face and took another deep breath. Dean started to tremble at the stomach-twisting kind of heat that filled him from head to toe. His twisted soul reached for it’s counterpart in his brother. He felt a sharp ache in his side and tried not to gasp as he was propelled slightly forward. The pull stronger than it had ever been before.

Dean stilled and willed his eyes green again. He tentatively took a few steps toward his brother. He noticed that Sam had yet to register his presence. He briefly wondered if Sam wasn’t feeling their bond because he was grieving. Dean flinched slightly as he stepped into the Devil’s Trap painted on the floor. He reached out a hand and gingerly curled his fingers around his younger brother’s shoulder.

“Sammy?” Dean whispered.

Sam’s head snapped up from it’s place in his chest. He attempted to still his breath, but Dean could tell it was a struggle. He pursed his lips when he noticed that Sam didn’t turn his head to face him, his shoulders shaking. “Dean? Is that you?”

Sam still refused to turn. Dean applied heavier pressure to Sam’s shoulder and tugged slightly, finally moving Sam around to look at him, his body twisted in his position. Dean pulled away and extended his hand toward his brother. He dropped his eyes to the painted floor and shuffled his feet lightly.

“Dean… What are you not telling me?” Sam pushed himself to standing and his eyes darted to the floor. He immediately returned them to Dean’s face and placed his hands on the curve of Dean’s jaw.

Dean felt Sam’s fingers dig into the soft flesh of his face and attempted not to flinch at the harsh treatment. He watched helplessly as Sam narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, taking a deep breath. Dean stood, stock still as Sam’s eyes roved over every inch of Dean’s battered skin. He knew he was a mess. Sam had cleaned him up slightly after Metatron had killed him, but he felt the bruises and shallow cuts that littered his face and neck. The slice just under the left side of his jaw stung like blazes, because Sam’s nail was right on the still raw wound.

Sam dropped his hands and abruptly pulled his older brother into a bone crushing hug. Dean felt Sam’s quiet sobs against his chest until his brother took a deep breath, obviously steeling himself for the inevitable truth. Sam whispered against the warmth of his brother’s neck. “Are you- did a- Dean? Are you a _demon_?”

Dean took a snuffling breath as Sam pulled his head away to look his brother square in the eyes. Dean flashed his black eyes at Sam. Sam gasped and pulled Dean closer. He started mumbling about _blood_ and _schedules_ , how if he did it with Crowley, he can do it with Dean. Dean knew Sam was attempting to figure out if they had the correct herbs in stock at the Bunker.

“Sam, stop.” Dean huffed. “It’s not the same. I’m not _possessed_. This isn’t a meatsuit, Sam. My soul was twisted,  _turned_ by the Mark of Cain.  I’m the only thing in here. Blood and spellwork isn’t gonna do a damn bit of good.”

Sam pulled his brother closer and wrapped his arms tighter around Dean’s wound-riddled body. “There has to be a way, Dean… I can’t- I just -” Sam sobbed and took a deep breath. He whispered so lightly Dean almost missed his next words. “I can’t- I don’t  want  to live without you.”

“Oh Sammy.” Dean’s weight collapsed against his brother’s frame.

“It can’t be true, De… We’ll call Cas, he can help find a way. Hannah and Cas took Metatron back to Heaven. Maybe the cure lies with the Angels. Cas’ll help us… I know he will.”

**I Was Born Sick**

** **

Sam pulled his brother closer and took another deep breath. He took in the scent that was uniquely Dean: gunpowder, leather, a trace of Old Spice and just a hint of sulfur. Sam mouthed at his brother’s neck and a mumbled _I love you_ tumbled from his lips. He felt Dean’s left hand tighten around his waist as his right hand threaded through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Sam pressed open mouthed kisses to Dean’s neck and jaw.

“I just can’t live without you Dean,” Sam whispered into his brother’s soft flesh. “I don’t want to live without you.”

Dean pulled Sam flush to him. They mold together like two bodies should that had been together their whole lives. Sam felt the hard line of Dean’s half erect cock push against his thigh.

“Sammy…” Dean whispered. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Dean tightened the hand in Sam’s hair. He pulled Sam’s head from his neck and flashed his black eyes at the younger Winchester.

“I don’t care, Dean,” Sam whispered back as he stuck out his jaw. “I’m gunna summon Cas… Why don’t you go get cleaned up or something? You’re filthy.”

Dean chuckled and raised an eyebrow. “But you love it, Sammy…” Dean pulled Sam’s hair hard once, dropped his other arm from his waist and palmed Sam’s ass.

Sam jumped at the squeeze and attempted to will down the flush of his cheeks. “Whatever, Dean. Just go.” Sam pushed off his brother, pausing momentarily to scratch away a spot of paint of the Devil’s Trap, and then strode from the room.

Sam walked through the storeroom gathering the supplies he needed to summon Castiel. He found the bowl and herbs easily. The jar of Holy Oil was running low and Sam made a mental note to ask Cas to grab him some more at his earliest opportunity. Sam rooted around the shelves looking for the chalk and the silver blade needed to extract his blood. He found both hidden behind a box of fetal bones. Sam shivered at the thought of the Men of Letters collecting that many baby parts. He knew they were an intrical part of hex bags, but still.

Sam threw the chalk and blade into the bowl and headed back to the dungeon. He really hoped his brother was no where to be found. Sam knew that if Dean continued to tempt him, he would go down a road that he didn’t think that Dean in his right mind would want to go down.

Sam drew the symbols, filled the bowl, and spilt his blood. He spoke the Enochian words clearly and concisely. He then waited. Sam felt the minutes slip by with no response from the blue-eyed Angel. He paced the room for what felt like the hundredth time when he felt the gentle displacement of air.

“Sam… Where is he?” Castiel glanced around the room. Sam knew Cas thought Dean dead.

“Cas…” Sam started, then stopped. Tears fell from his eyes unimpeded.

“Sam, why did you call me? Metatron needs to be dealt with. I cannot cater to your every whim. I know that you are grieving…” Castiel trailed off as he took in Sam’s face. Whatever he saw there made his expression morph, filling his voice with urgency.  “Where is he?” When Sam remained silent, Cas repeated, his words clipped, “Where. Is. He. Sam? Take me to him.”

“He’s- It’s- Let’s go, Cas.” Sam swiped the back of his hand across his face and rubbed the wet skin on his flannel. He traipsed down from the dungeon to the hallway and halted in front of Dean’s room. The door was slightly ajar and Sam pushed it forward with his booted foot. The door swung open effortlessly and Sam remained frozen in the threshold.

Sam gasped as he took in the sight in Dean’s room. Dean was sprawled out on the bed on his back, a towel slung low over his hips. He swayed his head to music Sam guessed only Dean heard. He then took in the thin black cord snaking out from Dean’s ear and realised Dean had his iPod playing.

Dean shifted slightly and the towel slipped a few inches further down Dean’s slim hips. Sam thought that, had Dean been aware he was in the room, he would have let the towel fall completely. Sam groaned as his jeans tightened around his groin. He shifted uncomfortably and turned from his brother. Sam’s cheeks flushed pink as Castiel stood with one eyebrow cocked.

Castiel stepped into the room, glided over to the bed, and pulled one earbud out of Dean’s ear. Sam heard the chorus of _All of Me_ by John Legend float from the small headphones. “Dean. Sit up and listen to me.”

Sam stood in the doorway and watched the interaction between Castiel and Dean. He marvelled at the fact that Dean obediently did whatever Cas wanted. Sam filed that knowledge away for later. He’d always suspected that there was something going on between the Angel and his brother. This was confirmation. Sam bristled with jealousy and anger that Dean allowed Castiel that intimacy.  If anyone other than himself were around right now, like their Dad or maybe even Bobby, then Cas would have been tasting dirt already.

“Dean. You need to listen to me now. The Mark is going to push harder on you. It will exact a higher price every time you kill, every time you anger. You cannot let this happen. You need to stay in control. I believe that you should isolate yourself. We need to remove the First Blade from your presence. I will take care of its removal. I do believe it is prudent that you not touch the Blade again.”

“It’s over there, Cas. Take it away. I don’t even want to look at it.” Dean shifted further on his bed and the offending piece of cotton slipped completely from his lap the corner hanging just over his left knee, exposing the sparse line of hair running from his belly button down to his tightly trimmed bush.

Sam could just make out the root of Dean cock, thick and velvety between his muscled bowlegs. He turned toward the hallway and shoved the hand not bracing himself in the doorway down his boxer briefs. He adjusted his rapidly swelling erection and coughed to cover his low moan.

“Cas?” Dean whispered from his place on the bed. “I think that Sam being here makes it- well… better, I guess.”

“What do you mean, Dean?” Sam turned his head and watched Castiel sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed. He bit back a whimper as Castiel slid his hand over the towel on Dean’s lap. Watching through hooded eyes, Sam suppressed a frown as Castiel adjusted the soft fabric to drape across Dean's hips, hiding that temptation from Sam’s gaze.

“It’s just that when Sam is close by, it _hurts_. Ash once said we were soul mates?”

Castiel nodded. “You are. Two halves of a whole. You can never be separated for long. I can see it...”

Sam turned fully from the doorway, his erection had flagged. “You can see our souls?” Sam ducked his head. He didn’t want anyone looking at the taint he knew his soul to be. There was no way that it had any purity left. Dean was the Righteous Man. Not him. Sam knew his brother’s soul was pure, untainted. The former vessel of the Michael Sword. The Enforcer...

“Dean’s soul was brilliant when I pulled him from Hell, Sam. The Mark has twisted that.. It is still beautiful.” Castiel stood from the bed and moved to Sam’s side. He placed two fingers on Sam’s forehead. “Here.”

Sam gasped as his eyes adjusted to the brilliance radiating off his brother. It looked like an active volcano. The inside was brilliantly white. Rivers of what looked like blood flowed over and through the white light. They twisted and pulsed, craggy, molten lava flowing through water. There was a tinge of black on the edges. Sam guessed that was the Mark’s influence. The red rivers undulated under the surface of Dean’s skin… always restless. He saw the white bits of Dean’s soul reach out through the cragmire toward his own. He watched in awe as the souls met in the middle of the room and twisted in a complicated dance. “It’s…”

“Shh. Now look at your own.” Castiel whispered in Sam’s ear.

Sam glanced down at his body and was taken back by the sight. His own soul was white. Not as brilliant as Dean’s; he _did_ have rivulets of grey running through the surface. There were many cracks and fissures that were still healing from his time with Lucifer in the Cage. Sam watched the grey dim and fade as the tendrils of Dean’s soul met and tangled together. His soul ached as it flowed from him toward his brother. Sam decided it was a good ache. One he wouldn’t trade for anything.

Sam sighed as Castiel took his fingers away from his head. “Dean…”

“I know, Sammy… It’s pretty cool, huh?” Dean smiled and laid back on the bed, his towel slipping back down from where Castiel had adjusted it earlier.

“Yeah, Dean.” Sam turned back toward his brother’s Angel. “What does it mean?”

“I have many speculations, Sam. I do believe that since your brother is a demon now, he will feel no need to eat or sleep. He should be able to bend his will to travel and can visit Hell without becoming stuck. He is, for all intents and purposes, a Knight of Hell. We should hide the First Blade. I believe that the pull of the Blade will tempt Dean in ways that he will not like. His soul is so twisted, but the Blade will turn him into something he will not like.” Castiel picked the First Blade out from under the desk and placed it gingerly in his inner trenchcoat pocket. “I will leave you two then.”

“Cas…” Dean smirked. “Are you _sure_ you want to go?”

Sam took a deep breath and tamped down the rage he felt in the pit of his stomach. He closed his eyes and drew from the meditative techniques he learned at Stanford. “Dean, I am sure that Cas wants to rid himself of the Blade just as much as you want it gone.” Sam just wanted Castiel gone.

“Of course. However, I do believe that while I am gone you and Sam should strategise. I know that you want to overthrow Crowley and claim Hell for yourself, Dean.” Dean turned his head from his Angel, eyes dropping to the bedspread. “You cannot fool me. We have a bond that allows me to know what you desire, Dean. With Metatron in jail and Hannah and I running Heaven; we could use someone on our side running Hell.”

“And what would my role be in all of this?” Sam couldn’t help but complain. “You can’t expect me to just _sit_ here any watch you guys.”

“Aww… Is someone jealous, Sammy?” Dean waggled his eyebrows and ran his hand over his abdomen. He scratched lightly at the sparse hair that grew under his navel. Dean pushed his towel down slightly and smirked when Castiel’s eyes went wide.

Sam huffed and gave Dean his _Bitchface Number Forty-six_ and rolled his eyes. “Let Cas go do his thing, Dean.”

“Sam.” Castiel turned back toward the younger Winchester. “You will be needed to keep Dean in check. His soul craves yours and without you near, I fear that the Mark will take him over. I must go. I will return as soon as I can. If you need me-”

“Yeah, Cas. We know what to do. We do have you on speed dial,” Sam stated dismissively as he rolled his eyes.

“Goodbye, Dean.” Castiel smiled at his Hunter, an expression that Dean mirrored.

“Bye’ya, Cas.”

“Sam,” Cas nodded.

“Goodbye, Castiel,” Sam answered. He walked over to his brother’s bed the second the Angel ‘winged’ out. Sam flopped down next to his brother and huffed.

“What’s wrong, Sam?” Dean rolled slightly toward his brother, his towel slipping almost completely off his lap. Sam could see the hard length of Dean’s cock resting against his leg. Sam steeled his breath and closed his eyes.

“Hey, Dean? Wanna put some clothes on?” Sam laughed shakily. “You’re very distracting.”

**I’ll Tell You my Sins**

****   


 

Dean flipped another page and stared at the Latin. The Men of Letters had loads of information on Abaddon, but not that much on the Knights of Hell as a whole. Dean knew that they could only be killed by the First Blade. That was how they had taken out Abaddon after all. Dean sighed at the information on hand. He already knew that Cain was the first Knight of Hell. Dean flipped a few more pages in the book and realised that Cain needed to be killed. Dean just didn’t know how to get to Cain. Crowley’s demons were keeping the Beekeeper under lock and key. He tugged idly at the worn red flannel shirt he’d pulled on after his brother’s rather flustered remark.

“Hey, Sammy?” Dean looked up from the dusty tome and squinted.

“What’s up?” Sam crossed the library and sat down at the table across from his brother.

“So… I was thinkin’ that maybe…” Dean leered.

“Thinking is a dangerous thing, especially for you.” Sam rolled his eyes and pulled the book Dean was reading toward himself. He started to absently flip the pages.

“Whatever.” Dean shook his head. “So, I was thinking that the best thing to do in this situation is to overthrow Crowley. He’s no good to us. Cas’ll never be able to keep things in line. He and Hannah have enough on their plates as it is…”

“I’m sure that they do. I just think that maybe we should have a gameplan for once,” Sam chided.

“And what would that be, oh esteemed leader?” Dean snarked and pulled the book back towards himself.

“Stay alive?” Sam made _Bitchface Number Seventy Two_ at Dean.

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

“Besides, we always stay-” Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother. “Well… we mostly stay alive. I have a plan.”

“Dean…”

“Sammy,” Dean mocked. “What? I have a great plan. I think you should fulfill the destiny that’s been laid out for you since you were six months old.”

“No. Just- no.” Sam stood abruptly and his chair clattered to the floor. He absently ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends.  “There’s no way. No way. I can’t- I just-”

“The plan is simple, Sammy.” Dean jumped from his chair and gestured widely around the room. “You drink the go-go juice, you become the Boy King you were always meant to be.. It’s the _perfect_ plan, Sam! You and me, it’s _Destiny_. Two halves of one whole… The whole song and dance…”

“Dean… Even if, and I mean _if_ that were an option - which it’s not - all of the blood that Azazel gave me is gone. It’s all been burned out of me.” Sam huffed and pulled his chair up off the floor. He sighed and flopped into the seat, elbows propped on his knees, cradling his head in his hands.

“Ah! But I figured out a way around it. Knight of Hell.” Dean smiled, his arms held wide, feet braced apart.

Sam glanced up at his brother, his lips pursed, and cocked his head. “And…”

“And I can give you the blood you need.” Dean strode over to the bookcase. He ran a finger over the dust that had been collecting since the early 1950’s. He blew at his fingers and eyed the particles as they drifted to the floor. He watched as Sam moved his head slightly, neither agreeing with nor negating the statement. “Think about it. Azazel was ranked lower than me. My blood then would be better, right?”

Sam nodded and waved a hand in a circle, urging his brother to continue.

“So, I give you blood, you get all crazy powerful… We kill Crowley and rule Hell together. What could go wrong?”

Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother and tipped his head to one side. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the Brazilian Hardwood. “Really, Dean? What could _possibly_ go wrong? What couldn’t go wrong? Just what do you think you’ll accomplish? And _how_ do you think you’re gonna kill Crowley? Do I need to remind you that the Colt was destroyed, the First Blade is hidden, only Cas knows where. What else are you gunna use to kill Crowley?”

“Well… I figured that Cas could bring me the Blade when the time came. He can always take it away when I’m done… It’s not like-” Dean flopped in his chair dejected. “Sam. We can do this.”

“I’m not saying we can’t, Dean. What I am saying,” Sam ran his hand through his hair, “is that you can be such a hypocrite. When I was drinking from Ruby-”

Dean surged from his chair and stomped to meet his brother. His hands flew to Sam’s shoulders and he pinned him _hard_ into his seat. “Don’t you _dare_ bring that demon bitch into this.”

Sam looked up at his brother and glared, black gaze not spooking him in the slightest. “When I was drinking from Ruby, you locked me in the Panic Room. Cas called me an Abomination. _Abomination_ , Dean. You told me to get over it or you’d leave me. Now you think you can just tell me it’s okay… That all of the things you said before don’t mean a _God-damned_ thing? ‘Cause I find that hard to swallow, Dean.  You can’t tell me it will be okay.”

“Sammy….” Dean leered. “It’ll be okay cause it’s me…”  
  
“Yeah. It’s you. Remember what _else_ came with the whole blood thing, Dean?”

“But, Sam….” Dean trailed off as he leaned into Sam’s space. Sam could smell the hint of sulfur rolling off the older Winchester’s skin. He felt Dean’s hot breath ghost over his cheek. He let his eyes fall closed and his head tip back.

“Dean… you know… how do you plan on stopping it?” Sam steeled his breath.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” Dean chuckled as he removed his hands from Sam’s shoulders and walked back over to his chair.

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. “Dean. It’s not drinking blood that causes it. It’s the after effects. All that power… And that was just Ruby. What do you _honestly_ think is going to happen after I drink from you?”

“I don’t know… You get a little turned on and rub one off? Casa Erotica is good for that. I can loan you Busty Asian Beauties…. The Men of Letters have some good old ones around here from the 50’s.” Dean smirked, his cocky grin lighting up the room.

“So, you’re just gonna lock me in my room with your porn collection? Dean, it doesn’t work that way.”

“So then you rub one off on me. Hey, I’m all for taking one for the team. You don’t have to drink straight from me if that helps the issue. I can flask it for you. Ruby did that sometimes, didn’t she?” Dean crossed his arms and stared.

“I thought we weren’t bringing Ruby into this conversation,” Sam snapped, pushing to his feet, clearly agitated. “But yeah, she did if she was going to be away for too long.”

“Then that settles it. You can use my old flask. I don’t need it anyway.” Dean stood and crossed the library. He headed down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

Sam sat back down in his chair and pulled the book Dean was reading back in front of him. He started to read the article on Cain and the formation of the Knights.

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

Sam stepped out of the shower room, his towel draped low on his hips. He glanced left and right and smiled when his brother was no where in sight. Sam turned to the left and started the short walk to his sleeping space.

“Dean!” Sam screeched as he was shoved up against the wall, cold concrete seeping into shower hot flesh. He heart pounded in his chest and he stuttered to catch his breath. Dean smirked and Sam fought to slow his pounding heart and quiet the rush of adrenaline. Being suddenly pinned tended to do that to a person.

Dean pushed hard into his little brother, their hips slotting together like puzzle pieces. Dean moaned as his breath skirted over Sam’s sensitive skin. He ground the hard line of his erection into Sam’s thigh.

“Dean…” Sam whined. “Do you- don’t…” Dean slid his jean clad thighs on either side of Sam’s leg and pushed harder into Sam, coaxing his brother into hardness.

“Oh, baby boy. The things you do to me.” Dean licked a line from Sam’s collarbone to the sensitive skin behind his ear. “You taste so good, Sammy.”

“De-” Sam moaned. “You gotta stop. You don’t-”

“I’ve gotcha, babe. Let it all out. You know you want it,” Dean breathed as one hand slid down and tugged at the folds of the white cotton towel. Sam’s hands followed his down and his fingers tightened over his wrist.   
  
“Dean…” Sam grabbed Dean’s hand and placed it on the cut of his hip. “We can’t… Not until you…”

“Sammy. I promise I’ll help you with your little _big_ problem. Just let me.” Dean pushed his other hand under the towel and stroked his free hand along the line of his brother’s hip.

Sam gasped and grabbed his brother’s shoulders. He forced a smile and pushed him lightly back a step. “Dean. No. Not right now.”

“But,” Dean began, eyes narrowed in confusion. “I know you want it. I _saw_ the way you looked at me earlier… It’s okay, Sam.” Dean ran his hand through his spiked hair and glanced at the tiled floor.

“Dean… If you knew what was going through my mind… You wouldn’t want to push it. I-”

“You forget, Sammy. I can take whatever you could dish out.” Dean’s eyes flashed black for a moment. “Harder to hurt, little brother. Besides, we’re two halves of one whole. We were _meant_ to be together.”

Sam laughed and grabbed his sides. “I don’t think that is what Heaven had in mind when they decided we needed to be soulmates. Incest is so-”

“Old Testament?” Dean chuckled. “We could kill two birds with one stone. Mutually beneficial and all that shit. Besides, not like it hasn’t been done before. Lot’s daughters.”

“It could work,” Sam sighed and adjusted the towel to hug his waist tighter. “Though using the bible as your ammunition isn’t going to work Dean. We haven’t seen eye to eye too much the past four years. I worry that if we do take this further, it could tear us apart.”

“Sam. Either we do, or we don’t… but really. Enough of the chick-flick moments.” Dean spun to return to his room. “Let me know when you are finished with your period, Samantha.”

“Dean!” Sam huffed. He threw his arms in the air and stomped off to his bedroom towel clutched, forgotten, in one hand. “Oh, and Dean? There was wine involved with Lot!”

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

Cas strolled through the Bunker and marvelled at the silence. Heaven was running smoothly and Castiel felt that he could take a few hours off to check on his Winchester boys.

“Dean? Sam?” Castiel headed down the steel stairs, his oxfords ringing with every footfall. He stepped into the library and caught the overturned chair, the half empty bottle of Hunter’s Helper, and the open book. He paused to check the content of the pages. He nodded in assent and picked up the pen lying next to the tome. Castiel made a few notes in Enochian and set the pen back on the table. He righted the chair and moved across the open space toward the entertainment room.

“Cas?” Dean hollered. “We’re in here!”

Castiel walked into the media room and glanced at the television. “Hello, Dean. What are you watching?”

“Game of Thrones. Charlie got Dean hooked on it last year, so we’re trying to catch up,” Sam stated from his spot on the couch. Castiel noticed that Sam was sprawled out over the dark fabric, his feet in Dean’s lap.

Dean filled Castiel in on their plan to give Sam demon blood. Castiel didn’t necessarily think that it was a very sound idea, yet for the time being he just nodded and watched as Dean became more excited the longer he talked. He knew that the situation was far from ideal, but understood that Dean needed the extra advantage to take down Crowley.  

“Dean. You do understand the rather… questionable… nature of this venture?”   

“I get it, Cas,” Dean quipped his hands flexing open and closed.

“This could pose significant harm to Samuel. You do realize that, correct?”

“I get that too, but just think… Sam helps me take down Crowley… Sam and me rule Hell, you and Hannah rule Heaven… It’s beneficial to everyone!” Dean smiled briefly at Sam and looked back toward his Angel.

“Except Crowley,” Sam muttered with a small smile. Dean snorted.   
  
“Okay, almost everyone.”

Castiel tilted his head at Dean, mulling the hunter’s proposition over in his head. He knew Dean well enough after all these years to know that the man would not desist from his plan if Castiel spoke out against it. So all that was left for Cas right now was damage control.

“It is important then that Sam is eased into drinking,” he eventually said. “He has had no blood since my brother fell in the Cage. This is no low level demon we are talking about, either. Sam will be drinking from a _Knight of Hell_. This is very important to keep in mind. The Angels called him Abomination once…” Castiel looked toward the door, eyes downcast.

“Well…” Dean began.

“I should be here while Sam drinks. This way, if there are any problems, we can deal with them swiftly.” Castiel moved further into the room and sat stiffly in the spare arm chair.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Cas.” Sam pulled his feet from his brother’s lap and sat up. “It’s a vulnerable time for me… It’s just…”

“I do understand, Sam. I will give you a moment to speak with Dean about this.” Castiel rose and stepped from the room, closing the door behind him. He shut his eyes and honed his hearing to pick up the brothers conversation. It wasn’t eavesdropping, it was…. No, it was eavesdropping alright.

_Dean… It’s not a good idea. Cas knows what Ruby and I got up to. He knew there was sex. He just wants to keep me away from you--_

_That’s not true, Sam… You should know that._

_He’s never going to look at me like he looks at you. He’s in love with you, Dean. Love. You can’t change that. He’ll do anything he can to keep you from me-_

_He’s not- He’s- It’s not love like that, Sammy. I promise. I love him like a brother… not like that… Oh, don’t give me that look._

Castiel sighed. He knew Dean did not love him in a romantic way. Though the knowledge did not make it hurt any less. He leaned further into the door and remained stock-still to avoid the brothers’ detection.

_Well… I’m not gonna have him around while I’m sucking your skin, Dean. He’ll make it awkward and fifty shades of weird._

_Maybe he just wants to do what he claims… You know, make sure your reaction isn’t going to hurt anyone we don’t want it to._

_Did you ever stop to think about how weird it would look to have someone watch us while I rut all up against you?_

Castiel heard a sharp thunk against the wall.

_Sammy…_

_No, Dean… Just… no._

_Com’on, Sammy…_  Another thunk and a sigh. _I won’t let him watch the good stuff. Besides, if he sees it’s just the normal blood induced lust--_

_But it won’t be! You know that!_

_Sam!_

The door was thrown open and Castiel almost fell into the room.

“Were you _spying_ on us?” Sam demanded.

“Of course not,” Castiel lied immediately. “I was listening to the Host. There is a lot of activity in Heaven right now. We are completing a major restructuring.”

“Oh.” Sam smiled. “That’s good.”

“Of course. It would be in both of your best interests’ to start the process of acclimating you to the demon blood again.” Castiel grinned, attempting to appear casual. “Dean can give you a small amount now and I will monitor you for any signs of distress.”

Dean rolled his eyes and retrieved the flask from the end table. He made a small incision in his forearm and allowed the blood to dribble in the small tin opening. When the flask was a quarter full, he willed the cut shut and wiped it with the proffered cloth.

“Here.” Dean shoved the flask into Sam’s hand. “Drink.”

Sam brought the flask to his mouth and sniffed the contents. “Bottoms up.”

Castiel watched as Sam tipped his head back and allowed the deep copper liquid to pool in his mouth. He appreciated the slight bob of Sam’s Adams apple as he swallowed Dean’s offering. Sam pulled the flask away from his mouth and raised his free hand to wipe away the blood that had spilled. He tipped his head slightly and licked the excess blood off the back of his hand.

Castiel moved to Sam’s side and placed a single finger on his temple. He monitored Sam for signs of restlessness or aggression. Sensing none, he removed the digit. Castiel watched as Sam whimpered, glanced toward Dean, and ran from the room.

“What did I do?” Castiel tilted his head to the left and squinted.

“Nothing, Cas. It’s just that the blood…” Dean ducked his head and blushed. “It does things to Sam. He’ll get over it.”

Just like Castiel knew that his own feelings would never be reciprocated, he was aware that Dean would never return his brother’s affections. Dean loved Sam, but it was in nothing but a very brotherly way. Sam would eventually be over/get over/overcome his infatuation. Castiel did hope that someday Dean could return his own affections. Maybe after the brothers killed Crowley, and after Hell was stabilized again,  Sam and Castiel might be able to rid Dean of his affliction and allow just Sam to rule Hell. This way, Castiel could be with his Hunter.

The familiar sensation of Hannah’s voice in his mind pulled Cas out of his musings.

“I must return to Heaven,” he said, glancing at Dean. “Hannah is calling. Please inform me if Sam needs assistance.”

Castiel stepped toward Dean, who nodded and pursed his lips. “See’ya, Cas.”

Castiel disappeared in a noise of feathers and wind.

A small cough at the door had Dean turning. Sam stood there, papers clutched in one hand. Dean knew that squint and slight frown. That was always Sammy’s look while trying to read Cas’ script in Enochian. He hadn’t looked up yet. “Hey… Dean? What  _did_ Cas do with Crowley’s bones?”

****  
  


**Drain the Whole Sea**

** **

Dean gestured with his left index finger toward the door to the right. He pulled his Colt M1911 from the thigh holster and checked the clip. The snick of metal sliding into it’s home was Sam’s sign to move. Dean watched in a crouch as Sam’s foot connected with wood, the oak cracking and snapping as he kicked through full force.  Dean stood and aimed at the space between Sam’s head and the now splintered door frame, ready to take down anything that Sam missed. He glided forward to his brother’s right shoulder and lowered his pistol a hair. Dean felt Sam take a step back and press solidly against his left thigh.

Sam tapped his right finger against Dean’s thigh four times and nodded. There were four Demons in the next room. Dean took a breath and cocked his ear. Six. Sam was getting better. Dean lowered his hand to the small of Sam’s back and flattened his palm, followed by his index finger. Sam responded back with a shake of his fist against Dean’s leg and moved forward toward the door across the warehouse.

Dean followed silently behind his brother as Sam twitched a hand toward the locked door. The knob slowly turned under the pressure and clicked open. Sam sauntered forward and toed the door slightly.

“Hey guys,” Sam jeered. The Demons looked up from the plans they were studying at the low table and moved forward to attack.

Dean stepped in the room just as Sam was pinning the last of the Demons to the wall.

“Sammy…” Dean smiled as he approached his little brother. “You started without me.”

“ _Winchesters_ ,” one of the Demons spat. He choked back a scream as the knife Dean had hurled made contact with his left thigh and imbedded itself in the Demon’s meat suit.

“Where is Crowley?” Dean asked the room. With no reply forthcoming, he began to pace back and forth in front of the table, his hands behind his back. “You see… You could answer my questions, or I could let my brother send you back to Hell kicking and screaming.”

“I vote for Hell.” Sam smirked and twitched his fingers. The Demons flew a few more inches off the ground.

“Of course you do, Sam. That way, when we take it over, you’ll have more souls to torture, yeah?” Dean stopped and winked at the younger Winchester. He turned toward the Demon pinned by the window. “I remember you…”

“You’ll never get away with it,” the Demon snipped. “Crowley says you’re a Knight, but I don’t believe it.”

“Sam?” Dean nodded, his eyes fixed on the Demon before him.

Dean watched as the Demon writhed against the wall. He knew that Sam was mentally willing the Demon from its meat suit. He watched as black smoke rolled from the Demon’s mouth and poured out onto the floor as if he sprouted a waterfall. Dean laughed as the Demon cried from the pain of being forcibly removed from this plane of existence. The smoke ebbed and eventually stopped. Dean watched as it floated about the floor momentarily before it finally sunk into the concrete and headed back to Hell.

Dean watched the vacated body slump to the floor and turned toward the remaining Demons. “Now… Does _anyone_ want to tell me where the current King of Hell is?”

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

Sam pulled a plain red bandana from his pocket and wiped the blade he’d been using clean. He tucked the bloodied cloth back into his pocket and sighed. His eyes were lit with glee even as the rest of his body slumped against a clean space of wall. Resheathing the knife, he automatically checked his Taurus. He only glanced up when something thudded to the ground.

“Dean… if you kill them all…” Sam shook his head. Eyes narrowing, he watched a bead of blood form and then fall off the cuff of his brother’s shirt. His tongue darted across his lips before he glanced away, one hand curling into a fist.

“What?” Dean smirked from his crouch. He stood abruptly and sauntered to his brother’s side. “Now we wait. He’ll show. I know it.”

Sam bit back a moan as the coppery smell of his brother’s blood flooded his senses. Dean had been allowing him to drink more these past months, but Sam still felt as though it wasn’t enough. He winced at the saliva flooding his mouth. Sam closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. He could ignore it… to a point.  

“You’re bleeding, Dean.”

 

“Want some?” Dean questioned as he shoved his wrist under Sam’s nose. Sam breathed in the rich scent and swallowed to try and clear his mouth. His stomach twisted, brain screaming in revulsion even as his body urged him to drink. It was so close.

“You’ve never let me..” Sam trailed off, shuddering.

“Well… I think you’re ready for more than what a flask or two can give you, baby boy.” Dean slid into Sam’s space and crowded him against the nearest wall. Sam felt the sharp jut of bone and the press of Dean’s length against his thigh. Dean was heat, sweat, copper, and sulfur.

Sam grabbed Dean’s wrist and brought it to his mouth. He tenderly licked the delicate skin. Sam felt the press of tiny bones under his fingers as he nuzzled Dean’s wound. He dragged his mouth through the gathered blood and then lifted his head. He looked into his brother’s eyes as he licked away the crimson stain. Dean nodded and flexed his fingers open and then closed his fist. Sam shivered and then wrapped his slick lips around the cut and sucked. Sam felt Dean shake slightly under the pull of blood. He smiled around the wound, reveling in the complexity of taste and the sensation coursing through his body. The first few swallows of Dean’s blood always gave Sam a pins-and-needles feeling in his veins. It was the perfect blend of pleasure and pain.

“Sammy,” Dean moaned and pressed closer. “Come’on… Is that all you got?”

Sam blinked and lapped at the cut, tracing the edges, teasing himself with the flavor. He lifted his head slightly and blew over the slash. He watched hairs rise and smirked before he was crushed against the wall by a rather insistent thigh. He gladly latched back onto the cut and sucked firmly, knowing that this would bruise.

“Baby boy… You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”

Sam glanced down at his brother’s face and shuddered at the black eyes staring back. He pressed his groin harder into Dean’s thigh and began to grind slowly. He whimpered as Dean’s wrist was pulled abruptly away from his mouth.

“Dean,” Sam whined, his words cut off as his brother latched his lips on the sensitive skin under Sam’s ear. Sam grabbed Dean’s waist and pulled him flush against his body. He snaked his hands down the back of Dean’s jeans and palmed his firm ass.

Sam lowered his mouth toward Dean’s waiting, petal soft lips. He jumped with a start as a throat cleared from across the room. Sam pulled his hands from Dean’s jeans and turned toward the sound.

“Hello, boys.”

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

Dean pushed away from his brother and leaned back against the wall as Crowley picked through the bodies littering the floor. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“I do _love_ how you’ve redecorated the place, Moose.” Crowley smirked as he approached the Winchesters.

“What do you want, Crowley?” Dean pushed away from the wall and took a step in front of his brother. He allowed Sam to press against his left shoulder, the default position of the Winchester boys.

“A little birdy told me a Squirrel was inquiring as to my whereabouts. I thought that it would be in my best interests to confirm his intel.” Crowley stepped over a fallen Demon and stopped a few feet in front of Dean.

“Well… I don’t know what he was talking about,” Sam piped up. “We’ve just been doing our jobs. You know… _Saving People_ ... _Hunting Things_...”

Crowley waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, yes… _The Family Business_. I get it, Sam. What I want to know is, why these Demons? What did _my_ Security Force do to deserve a One-Way Ticket back to Disney World?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Dean flashed his black eyes at the King of Hell and smirked as he started toward the brothers.

Sam flicked a wrist toward Crowley and stopped him in his tracks. He twisted his wrist slightly and Dean let out a snicker at the gesture.

“I’d watch out if I was you, Crowley. Sammy ’ere is getting stronger and stronger. Pretty soon he’ll be able to fight you properly.” Dean smiled and blinked his eyes green again. “Let him go, Sammy.”

Dean felt Sam lower his hand to his waist and curl his fingers possessively around the hard line of Dean’s jeans. “I’d go now if I were you.”

Dean turned toward his brother and pulled his face down for a kiss. His lips curled in a smile as he felt the King of Hell zap out of the room.

Sam whimpered when Dean pulled away and dropped his hands. “Gotta call Cas, Sammy.”

The sound of wings permeated the room as Castiel appeared. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean turned toward his Angel and nodded. “Hello, Cas.”

“You sure came quick, Cas. Not much going on in Heaven?” Dean stepped toward his best friend.

“You’re hurt, Dean.” Cas moved quickly to Dean’s side and laid a finger on his arm. Dean felt the tingle of Angel Healing in his bones.

“Cas. I _can_ heal myself.” Dean shook his head. “Did you ever think I wanted to feel that broken wrist?”

Sam snorted, the bickering complaint so familiar that it nearly passed un-noticed. Then the words penetrated.  “Broken?”

Dean shrugged. Sam glared and shook his head.

“I assume that you need assistance disposing of the bodies?” Cas enquired.

“Yes, Cas. Dean felt the need to kill the vessels.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“What? I wasn’t about to let them live. They were willing. Willing, Sam.” Dean shook his head as he lied.  “These weren’t innocent people that got possessed. They welcomed the Demons in.”

Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as Sam kicked the body closest to himself. “Then I wish you’d have told me that before you slit their throats.”

“You should not have confronted Crowley, Dean,” Castiel piped up from disposing of another body. Dean wondered where he sent them to. “Sam needs to hone his powers more before he can take on someone that powerful.”

“Cas…” Dean huffed. “We _didn’t_ confront him.  He  _found_ us .”

“Oh.” Castiel paused in his disposal. “Well, in that case. Good job, Sam.”

“Thanks, Cas.” Sam flashed a slight smile as he pulled a chair from beneath the table and sighed. He dusted off plaster bits from the table and dropped heavily into the seat. Dean ran toward his brother’s side and placed his hands on Sam’s cheeks.

“Are you okay?” Dean’s eyes roamed over the tightness in Sam’s face. He took in the slight bruising under his brother’s eyes and the sallow look in his skin. “You’re not okay, Sammy…”

“I’m _fine_ , Dean.” Sam pushed Dean’s hands off his face. “I’m just a little tired.”

Dean stood abruptly and turned toward his Angel. “We need to up Sam’s intake. Six Demons and Sam’s exhausted. It’s not enough. He needs to bleed a few dry. That should give him the boost needed to keep from falling over.”

“Dean… I held _Crowley_ immobile for a second or two there…” Sam reminded. He watched his brother blink.

“Doesn’t matter, Sammy. You shouldn’t be tired… You can’t get tired. I saw it happen with Famine. I can’t let that happen to you again.” Dean pursed his lips, the memory of his brother hunched over with blood dripping from his nose flooded his thoughts. “Crowley’s got to be taken out sooner than later.”

Dean shook the memory from his head and turned toward Castiel. “Any news on the bone front?”

“Crowley has hidden his bones well. I cannot find them.” Castiel lowered his gaze. “I am sorry that I deceived you, Dean. It was never my intention. Crowley led me astray. I never wanted to betray-”

“Cas, dude… It’s fine,” Dean lied. It still hurt that Cas felt the need to scheme with the King of Hell.  “We all make mistakes. You’re doing your best to make up for that.”

“Thank you, Dean. That means a lot coming from you.” Castiel stepped into Dean’s personal space. Dean knew Sam would begin to argue, but for once, Dean didn’t care. Dean scrunched his face as Castiel brought a hand up to his cheek, the backs of his fingers skimming Dean’s stubble. “I just hope that someday you can fully forgive me.”

“Anytime, Cas.”

“Dean…” Castiel turned his head as he dropped his hand back to his side. “I think it prudent to kill Cain. I admit that I do not know what it will do when it comes to the Mark, but this way there will be no challenge when you take over control of Hell. I can train you.”

Castiel leaned forward and placed his mouth next to Dean’s ear. He brought both hands up to frame his Hunter’s hips. The shallow breath of the Angel tickled Dean slightly. “Is Sam still needing sleep?”

Dean nodded and whispered back. He felt Castiel’s erection brush his leg. “Yeah.” Dean swallowed, the situation as a whole making him uncomfortable. “Um… He does.”

“Good,” Castiel whispered back. He stood straight and cleared his throat. Dean felt Castiel squeeze his hips tightly. “We should begin your training as soon as possible. Cain will soon hear of the deeds committed today and will find you a threat. I will meet you at the Bunker in three days after Sam goes to bed and we can begin your training.”

“Cas! Why-” Sam started and groaned as the Angel flitted from the room in a displacement of air and feathers.

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

Sam slammed the door to the Bunker behind himself and stalked down the stairs after Dean. Dean hadn’t spoken all the way back from Alabama. Sam had tried numerous times to start a conversation with his brother and all Dean had done was shut him down. It had been the longest two day trip of Sam’s life. He had spent the entire drive with either his nose in a book or humming to the playlist he _knew_ Dean hated on his iPod. Sam had been so frustrated with his brother that when they had stopped overnight in Texas, he had booked a separate room.

“Dean-” Sam started for the fifth time that day.

Dean turned toward him and flashed his black eyes. “Not right now, Sam. I don’t want to talk about it.” Dean dropped his travelling bag on the library table and started toward the kitchen.

“But, Dean-” Sam complained as he tried to keep up with Dean, his long legs covering the distance quickly. “We need to talk about this. Cas can’t just think-”

Dean turned back toward Sam and glared as he ran square into Dean’s chest. “You listen to me good, Sammy. If Cas thinks that I need training to defeat Cain, then I need training. He doesn’t want you to be there to accidentally get hurt. That’s all. Nothing is going on- Nothing _will_ go on… Get it?”

“It’s just that Cas has _never_ -” Dean glared, but Sam wouldn’t have any of that. “Don’t look at me like that, Dean. You know he has always been cool toward me. He doesn’t look at me like he looks at you.”

“And how’s that?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Like he wants to _eat_ you.”

“He doesn’t-” Dean shook his head. “Sam? Where do you get this shit from? Cas and me are just friends. Nothing more.”

“Uh huh.” Sam pushed at his brother. He slid his hands down the worn cotton and breathed deep of the scent that was uniquely Dean. Sam smiled when the prevailing fragrance of gun oil permeated his senses.

“Whatever, dude.” Dean turned to continue toward the kitchen.

“I don’t think so, Dean.” Sam flicked his wrist and slammed his brother up against the nearest wall. He twitched his pinky and smiled as Dean twisted so his back was flush against library wall. Dean merely smirked.

Sam stalked toward his brother and slowly unbuttoned his flannel shirt. He let the offending fabric hit the floor and dragged his hands up his brother’s hips, scraping his nails lightly over denim. He frowned as worn blue cotton met his fingers, then grinned as he pulled back to yank his black tee over his head. Sam threw the shirt toward the table and toed off his boots and grabbed the bottom hem of his brother’s tee and tore it off. He smirked as he stepped up in front of his brother and ran a single finger down the center of Dean’s chest. Sam leaned forward to breath in Dean’s heady scent as he cupped his lover’s throbbing erection.

“Sam…” Dean whispered as his brother licked the hard line of his throat. “Please…”

“No, Dean,” Sam breathed. “I can’t let you. He can’t have you…. You. Are. Mine.”

“Sammy-”

Sam pushed his entire body flush with Dean’s and nuzzled the soft skin behind his ear. “Want you.”

Sam pulled back slightly and quickly devested his brother of the rest of his clothes. Sam stepped out of his own jeans and boxer briefs and slotted his thick cock in the cut of Dean’s hip. He ground down on his brother and framed his head with his hands. Sam smirked as Dean fought through the power to touch him. Sam narrowed his eyes and pressed his power harder into Dean, keeping him pinned fully to the wall. He shook his head.

“I’m gunna take you, Dean. I’m in charge for once. Not you… Not Castiel… Me.”

Sam latched on to Dean’s collarbone and sucked a deep bruise in the pale, freckled flesh. He scraped his teeth over the mark and then laved at it with his tongue. Sam pulled back from his work and spit twice in his hand. He flipped Dean over and ran a spit-slick finger down the cleft of Dean’s ass. Sam pushed slightly against the warm, puckered flesh and chuckled as Dean pushed his hips back toward the finger.

“You want that, Dean?” Sam mouthed his brother’s shoulder. He circled Dean’s rim and smiled as the flesh gave slightly from the pressure. Sam pushed his finger in to the second knuckle and wiggled. Sam slipped in a second finger and flexed. He moaned at the pressure and heat that enveloped the digits.

“So hot for me… So tight,” Sam groaned. “Want you so bad. Gunna fuck you so hard…”

Dean whimpered and pushed his ass back. Sam pressed a third digit into his tight tunnel, scissored and twisted his fingers. He gripped his cock with his other hand and thrust the tip between Dean’s cheeks. Sam added a fourth finger and pressed forward on the little bundle of nerves. He kissed the top knobs of Dean’s spine as his brother shook through the press of his prostate.

“Like that? Ever fingered yourself open before?” Dean shook his head and gasped. “Never? I have. I’ve been doing it for years. Always imaging the fingers were yours. Always wanting more than what they could give me. I want to feel you come inside me, big brother. But, we’ll leave that for next time… Right now? I’m going to show you what Heaven _really_ feels like.”

Dean cried out as Sam pulled his fingers from his ass. Sam watched Dean smile as he pulled the small tube of Gun Oil lube from his discarded pants. He smoothed the cool gel over his hardened cock and placed a hand on his brothers lower back.

“Breathe, Dean. This is gunna sting.” Dean jerked as Sam slid his slick, throbbing cock home. He pressed lightly against Dean’s abs, cradling him as he laid open mouth kisses across his brother’s shoulders. Sam felt Dean shudder from the pressure and press back gently, the smooth skin of his ass rubbing against the sparse trail of Sam’s hair.

“Sammy,” Dean cried, his voice cracking. “Please….”

“So good, Dean. You take it like a pro.” Sam gasped as his balls slapped the delicate skin near Dean’s hole. “Wanted you… Wanted this…”

Sam panted and as he thrust harder, Dean’s tight heat bringing him closer to climax. “Not gunna last, big brother…”

“God! Please… Fuck… Sammy...” Dean moaned as he pushed back harder. He leaned his forehead against the cold tile wall.

“What do you want, Dean?” Sam licked the outer shell of his brother’s ear.

“Please… touch-” Dean cried as Sam hit his prostate.

“No, Dean…” Sam grabbed Dean’s hands and pressed them against the wall. “You’re gunna come untouched. I wanna feel you come undone…”

Sam thrust harder as he planted tiny kisses and nipped along Dean’s neck. He felt the tight coil of heat build in his abdomen and knew it wouldn’t be long before he was emptying himself into Dean.

Dean cried out as Sam brushed the small bundle of nerves and shook as he shot all over the wall. Droplets splattered and ricocheted back onto his chest and chin. Sam gasped as Dean spasmed around him, and spilled his hot seed in his brother’s ass. He thrust twice, wringing out the last drops of come and dropped Dean’s hands to his sides.

“Shit, Sammy,” Dean sighed. “That was… Well...WOW.”

Sam pressed sweet kisses into the flesh of Dean’s back. “I love you…” He pulled himself gently from his brother and ran a hand down his back as he felt Dean wince.

Dean turned to face his little brother and raised a shaky hand, running it through his hair. The gelled strands stuck in a haphazard pattern making him look utterly fucked. Sam chuckled slightly.

“What, bitch?” Dean sneered with no real heat behind the gesture.

“Nothing… you just look fucked out, that’s all.” Sam smiled and captured Dean’s pout in a chaste kiss. “I do love you, you know.”

“I know, Sam.” Dean chuckled with a smile. “But really, what have I told you about chick-flick moments?”

“You are something else, Dean.” Sam shook his head and bent down to scoop up their shirts. “Here, jerk.” Sam threw Dean’s shirt at his head and lowered an arm to snag the rest of his clothing. He sauntered to the bathroom for a quick shower.

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

Dean pushed through the door into the library. He glanced at Sam’s choice of reading material and nodded.

“So, I was thinking…” Dean stated as he slid into a seat across from Sam.

“Huh?” Sam grunted and turned the page of his ancient tome.

“Well… I was thinking that maybe I need to talk to Cas about this _thing_. Whatever it is.” Dean scratched the back of his neck. “Not that it is a thing…”

“Uh huh.” Sam nodded absently and ran a hand through his long hair to push his bangs off his face.

“Maybe we could go kill some demons this weekend. You need the extra blood. It’d be a good thing. Make you stronger.” Dean glanced at his brother as he ignored him and turned another page.

“Really? That’s good.” Sam nodded absently.

“Yeah, I was also thinking that I should totally bend Cas over the library table and fuck his brains out while you read Ye Olde Timey English… or whatever that shit is you’re into nowadays.”

“That’s great, Dean.” Sam turned another page. “Let’s do that then.”

Dean chuckled and threw a pen at Sam, hitting him in the temple.

“Hey, Fucker!” Sam growled as he stared down his brother.

“Were you even paying attention?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Of course I was.” Sam let out a shaky breath. “You said something about the Mark and that you needed to talk to Cas?”

“No…” Dean chuckled. “You did totally give me permission to fuck Cas in front of you though.”

“Dean!” Sam shook his head. “I would never-”

“Your exact words were _Let’s do that, Dean_ when I said that I was going to fuck Cas on the library table. Not my fault you get all _smart_ on me…” Dean stood and made his way over to Sam. He pushed his little brother’s chair back from the table and straddled his lap. “Now… I _said_ I think I need to have a talk with Cas to get to the bottom of whatever he thinks there is between the two of us. Which! There is nothing. I love him… But not the way I love you, Sam.”

Dean leaned down and planted a kiss on Sam’s soft lips. “Never the way I love you.”

“Yeah… well, I have it on good authority that you only love me for my hair.” Sam smirked and wrapped his arms around Dean, pulling him closer.

“Yeah… That’s it. Your flowing, fucking locks.” Dean rested his head against Sam’s shoulder. “You could be there when I talk to him, if it makes you feel better.”

“Yeah… That’s a good idea,” Sam pressed a kiss to Dean’s hair.”What’s up with you today? I thought we weren’t _supposed_ to be having any chick-flick moments. Are we gunna start drinking herbal tea and braiding each others hair?”

“Fucker.” Dean swatted Sam without any heat behind the gesture. “I can’t help it if you’re over there all broody… and sexy.”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and pushed him away slightly. “Broody? You’re the one who’s spent all day in his room listening to emo Zeppelin. Not me.”

“Emo Zeppelin? Is that even a _thing_?” Dean shook his head and kissed Sam square in the middle of his forehead.

“Now… if you’d let me up, I have to get back to my… what’d you call it? _Ye Olde Timey English_?”

“You heard everything I said, didn’t you?” Dean pushed up from Sam’s lap and started across the library. He figured he’d watch tv for a while. There was another Marathon of Dr. Sexy on TNT in a half hour. “Bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam called back, his laughter ringing through the library.

**Knows Everybody's Disapproval**

****   


 

Sam pulled Dean into the library and flopped down in his usual chair. Dean stood awkwardly by the table, his _dead guy_ robe firmly cinched around his waist; a mug of scalding hot coffee, black, just the way he used to drink it, lodged firmly in his grasp. He really didn’t need the sustenance the black gold provided him; however, the aroma of a freshly brewed pot was enough to get him moving in the morning.

“We should summon Cas.” Sam peered over the top of his own mug of coffee. Dean watched Sam drink. The slight bob of his Adam’s apple stirred an awakening in his boxer briefs. Dean smirked as his brother sat down his cup. He made his way over to Sam’s chair and pulled it back from the table, the hard legs squeaking across the floor. Dean turned and straddled Sam’s lap. He slowly dragged his hardening cock across Sam’s groin. Dean moaned as his brother’s erection pushed into his.

“Sammy,” Dean groaned as he nuzzled the expanse of Sam’s neck.

“Dean…. We-” Sam grinded up into his brother. His hands tightened around Dean’s waist, his thumbs brushing the tight abdominal muscles.

“You know you want it, baby boy.” Dean pulled a small knife from the sheath lashed to his calf. Sam’s eyes widened at the glint of steel in Dean’s hand. He watched as Dean deftly sliced near his carotid. His brother groaned, latching on feverishly and beginning to suck, eliciting a moan from Dean.

“You like that, huh?” Dean whispered as he fumbled with the button on Sam’s jeans. He popped the offending button and pulled down the zip. Dean’s nimble fingers deftly found Sam’s erection and he pulled his cock through the slit in the front of his brother’s boxers. Dean thumbed the head as he weaved his fingers through Sam’s locks, pulling him closer. He gripped Sam’s flesh and tugged expertly, relishing the moans falling from his brother’s lips interspersed between the greedy suckling pulls at his throat.

“So good, baby boy… So responsive. When you’re done here, I’m gunna go drain another black-eyed bitch for you. I think that plus this is-” Dean cut himself off with a moan as he felt the heat build low in his abdomen. He knew he was close. Dean gyrated his hips in tiny figure-eights against the hand stroking Sam’s cock. He gasped as he felt the hot, thick fluid splash against the inside of his shorts. He pulled twice, twisting on the upstroke. Dean kissed Sam’s hair as his brother shuddered through his own orgasm, shooting over Dean’s hand and onto his robe. Sam pulled away from Dean’s neck, his mouth shiny and red from the Demon blood. He licked at the trail that was trying to drip into the robe.

“Dean… That was…” Sam attempted to steel his breath and slow his beating heart.

“Calm down, Sam,” Dean chided as he climbed from his brother’s lap. He smiled down at a debauched Sam. A quick pulse of power sealed the wound. His hair was pulled all over. He looked as if he had stood in the middle of a tornado. “You should go clean up so we can call Cas.”

Sam shook his head and tucked his spent cock back into his jeans. He stood on shaky legs and ran both hands through his hair in an attempt to smooth it down. Dean laughed as Sam only made the situation worse.

“I’d take a shower and wash those flowing locks if I were you, Samantha. You just smeared come in your hair.” Dean picked his cold cup of coffee from the table and made his way out of the room toward the kitchen.

“Yeah, well, I’d change your robe and shorts if I were you, Dean. Don’t want your _Angel Boyfriend_ to get jealous of my mad skills, Jerk.” Sam downed the remainder of his cold brew with a grimace.

“Whatever, Bitch,” Dean chided and strutted from the room.

**~~..~~..~~..~~..~~**

Sam sat in his chair in the media room and ran his fingers through his slightly damp hair. His eyes shifted toward his brother playing Angry Birds on his cell. “You gunna call Cas? Or… do you want me to?”

Dean’s eyes stayed glues to his phone screen. He waved a hand dismissively at Sam. Sam rolled his eyes even though he knew that Dean couldn’t see him.

“Oh Castiel… I pray that you please grant us your presence. We need to discuss some stuff with you. Come when you’re free. It’s not an emergency, even if Dean would have you get here right now. So… um.... Yeah. Amen.”

Sam felt the slight displacement of wind before he saw his brother’s Angel. He glanced over to gauge Dean’s face. Sam shook his head slightly as Dean threw his phone onto the couch and sat at attention. _Not in love with Cas, my ass_ , Sam thought.

“Hello Dean.” Castiel appeared directly in front of the older Hunter. He shifted his eyes, giving a small nod. “Sam.”

Sam rolled his eyes. He knew that Castiel barely tolerated him on a good day, so to be acknowledged was a feat. “Cas.”

Dean stood quickly and pulled Castiel into a hug. Sam huffed as Dean leaned in to _smell_ the Angel’s hair. “Cas, man… Lookin’ good.” Dean held Castiel out at arm's length.

Sam took in Castiel’s appearance. Gone was the customary tan trench. Castiel had on a light blue shirt, the top two buttons undone. The sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and he was sans jacket. A pair of creased black trousers, clearly tailored, adorned his lower half and a very shiny pair of patent leather oxfords graced his feet.

“Business casual, Cas?” Sam questioned. He chuckled to himself as Dean realized he was in the room and dropped his hands from Castiel’s shoulders. Castiel smiled and turned toward Sam.

“We are taking a more _relaxed_ approach in Heaven. There are those that feel that the Angel’s are too _uptight_. Too much of…. How did Gabriel once put it? Oh! Too much like a _great big bag of dicks_.” Castiel smiled and extended his arms as he turned in a tight circle. “Do you think that this works?”

Sam smiled at the Angel. Before he could answer, Dean opened his mouth. “Did you keep the trench coat?”

Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother as he saw Dean’s face blush pink.

“I did. I felt that it will be invaluable during _FBI_ investigations.” Castiel dropped his arms and quit turning. He raised an eyebrow and a smug look overtook his face. He stepped into Dean’s personal space and leaned forward to whisper in his Hunter’s ear. “Did you want me to wear it tonight when we train?”

Dean stammered and pulled back with a start. Sam figured Castiel was set on embarrassing his brother. He watched as Dean tripped slightly on a chair leg as he backpedaled out of the media room. Dean then turned and ran.

Sam bent over, his laughter filling the large space as he gasped and smacked his knees. “That was good, Cas. I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.” Sam tried to catch his breath. He backed up until his knees hit the plush red arm chair. He slowly sunk into the velvet and put his hand on his chest. Sam closed his eyes and attempted to slow his breathing.

“Glad I can provide you with a source of entertainment. Now…. Calm down. I need to see how all of the Demon blood is affecting you.”

Sam stilled as Castiel laid his two fingers on his forehead and closed his eyes. Sam had always thought that it would feel strange and invasive when Castiel checked his cells, but now he didn’t feel anything other than the tingle from the physical connection of Castiel’s index and middle fingers on his skin. Sam opened his left eye cautiously. He glanced at Castiel’s scrunched face and look of total concentration. He heard him sigh and Sam quickly closed the eye.

“On a positive note, Sam…” Castiel lifted his fingers from Sam’s wrinkled forehead. “I see that no harm has been created from the addition of the Demon Blood that you have been consuming. It is safe to say you are at three- wait…”

Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. The soft brown locks fell back into his eyes. He pushed the ends to tuck behind his ears and nodded. “Yeah, four gallons of normal, run of the mill. Regular Demon Blood. Dean gives me about two pints a day from himself. I try to tell him that he can’t be giving me that much blood everyday, but he insists. Says _Only the best for my little brother_.”

Sam knew that the real reason Dean gave him that much blood. He truly thought that Sam wouldn’t want to be intimate with him, if there wasn’t their _quest_ involved. It was part of the reason Dean allowed Sam to start drinking directly from him so quickly.

“Of course.” Cas smiled. “I would tell him to stop as well. Though I do not think it will make a difference. Dean does what Dean wants, consequences be damned.”

Sam smiled and nodded. “Yeah, he’s always been like that, huh?’

“He has. Maybe it is the Winchester way,” Castiel stated. “I do believe that things are progressing well with you. Now we need to prepare Dean to take on Cain. Then I will believe that you will be ready for your _Final Countdown_ with Crowley.

“It’s final _showdown_ Cas… Showdown.” Sam chuckled, the Europe song now stuck firmly in his head.

“Ah. Even with the vast amount of knowledge that Metatron downloaded into my head, I still have problems with my references.” Castiel smiled wide, his eyes crinkled as he shrugged his shoulders.

Sam stood and made his way over to the Angel. He clapped one hand on his shoulder and sighed. “Don’t ever change, Cas.”

Sam dropped his arm and headed toward the door. “I’m going to bed. Feel free to make yourself at home. I’m sure that Dean will come out of his hiding as soon as he knows I’m absconded in my room. Night, Cas.”

“Good night, Sam. Sleep well.”

 

**That Looks Plenty**

** **

“Again.”

Dean punched and Castiel ducked. Dean aimed a kick at Cas’ mid section and fell into a crouch as Cas blocked with his left arm and spun around in a roundhouse. He clipped Dean’s head with his foot, sending the Hunter sprawling face first onto the wrestling mat.

“Get up!” Castiel ordered again and dropped into open fighting stance. He bounced on the balls of his feet, shoulder width apart. Dean took a moment to marvel at the muscle on his Angel. It was obvious that Jimmy Novak had been a runner. A Triathlete if Dean pegged it correctly. He had lean, compact muscle. He was 180 pounds of solid man - well… Angel. Castiel stood in front of Dean barefooted and shirtless. A pair of running sweats hung low on his hips exposing miles of tight flesh below his navel. Dean was dressed similarly, his sweats fit a little tighter due to the lack of any real physical activity the last six months. He and Sam hadn’t hunted any Monsters the last eight, ever since choosing to take on Hell itself and it’s never ending supply of Demons.

Dean stood and gestured for Castiel to move. He effectively blocked a flurry of punches, some high, some low. He countered with a hit to Castiel’s jaw. Dean briefly nodded at the soft feel to Cas’ skin. He knew that Castiel was allowing give and not acting as an Angel of the Lord during their sparring session. Dean dropped flat to the floor to avoid a sweep to the legs, then popped back up into fighting stance. He realised he was going to have to start PT again. Maybe he could convince Sam to start back up with him. He was still totally ripped.

“Come on, Dean. Get your head in the game,” Castiel growled as he ducked a high punch.

“I am, old man.” Dean chuckled as he caught Castiel in the abdomen.

Castiel rushed Dean, pushing further into his space. He backed Dean up against the far wall of the gym. Dean felt his breath leave him as he was shoved harder by the full force of Castiel’s body.

“Dean,” Castiel breathed, his mouth dangerously close to Dean’s ear. Dean felt Castiel lean forward and dart his tongue against the sensitive skin under Dean’s ear. His breath hitched and he closed his eyes as Castiel nipped his neck. Dean tightened his grip around Castiel’s waist, his fingers scrambling for purchase against the sweaty skin.

He gasped as Castiel pushed his growing erection against Dean’s thigh. Dean rutted back, the thin cloth of his sweats rough on his weeping slit. Dean felt the pre-come bead and soak the cotton as Castiel’s soft lips met his. Dean moaned and opened his mouth as Castiel licked and fought his way into Dean’s mouth. Dean’s tongue danced against his Angel’s as it mapped the other’s mouth. Dean brought his hands up to Castiel’s hair as he rutted the hard line of his cock against Dean’s. Dean blinked. He brought his hands to the Angel’s shoulders and pressed him lightly away. Castiel whimpered as Dean drew back from his kiss.

“Dean,” Castiel whined as he pulled further away from his Hunter. “Why… What’s wrong?”

Dean ran his hand through his sweaty spikes. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “Cas…” Dean whispered as he blew out steadily. “We can’t do this. You know that… I know that… It’s just not- Dammit, Cas!”

“We can, Dean. I care deeply for you. There is no reason-” Castiel pushed against Dean, hip to shoulder. “-we cannot do this.”

“Yes, there is, Cas.” Dean sighed. “I mean, I have- I do-, anyway… I _need_ to be with Sam. There can’t be an _us_ , Cas.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Once Crowley is dead and you have taken over your rightful place as King of Hell,” Castiel began, glaring defiantly into Dean’s eyes, “you will not _need_ to give Sam your blood anymore. Then we can be together.”

“Cas, man… really. It doesn’t work that way,” Dean chided. “I love Sam. Like… _love_ love. More-than-a-brother love. I’m not going to give that up. I care-” Dean swallowed and glanced at a spot over Castiel’s shoulder. “-I _care_ about you. I need you in my life. I’ve told you this before, Cas. But Sammy and me? Well, there ain’t no quitting that.”

Castiel leaned forward and kissed Dean. He felt his Angel attempt to deepen the kiss. Dean left his lips pursed and pushed back slightly. “Cas… if you want to kiss me, that’s fine. But it can’t go any further.”

Castiel sighed. “I am not happy, but I understand. This does not stop me from loving you, Dean.”

“I know that, Cas.” Dean shook his head. “I’m not asking you to stop loving me… I’m just saying that we can’t have sex. I love you, Cas. More than just family. I’ve loved you for five years, man. But… I’ve loved Sammy for a _lifetime_. With my whole being. We’re soulmates and need to be close like that.”

Dean flopped himself onto the mat and gestured for Castiel to join him. He raised an eyebrow as the Angel gracefully seated himself on the floor. Castiel gestured for Dean to continue with his train of thought. He cleared his throat and smiled.

“It’s not that I don’t feel our _Profound Bond_ or whatever you call it. I really do. I can feel it grow stronger everyday. I know what you did, Cas.” Dean glared at his best friend.

Castiel glanced around the room and shrugged his shoulders. “I do not know what you are speaking of, Dean.”

Dean shook his head. “I know you masked your Grace from Sam, Cas. He should’ve been able to see the Bond Link between me and you. You were standing right next to him. You do _know_ he needs to see that, right? It’s gunna keep him from doing something stupid if- no, _when_ he finds out.”

“I promise that I will show Samuel soon, Dean.” Castiel leaned forward and cradled Dean’s face in his hands. He kissed his Hunter deeply and whimpered when Dean pushed him off his lap.

Dean stood, resumed his fighting stance and twitched his fingers. “Come at me.”

Castiel stood and quickly threw a punch.

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

“Okay. So, let’s go over the plan again,” Sam sighed tiredly from his chair at the _War Council_ , as they had dubbed it. They kept looking at this as a _mission_. Dean said that it was as if they were going to war. Hence the name.

“Castiel and I will kidnap Cain from his home,” Hannah confirmed with a smile. “We will deposit him in Pontiac. The barn Castiel appeared to you in is still warded. I checked.”

“Cain will be placed in the center of a massive Devil’s Trap painted on the floor. He will be tied to a chair with handcuffs-” Castiel was cut off by Dean’s huffing.

“No. No handcuffs, no chair…” Dean shook his head. “The Devil’s Trap will contain him. Leave him free. I want a fair fight. I know once I enter that circle, I won’t be able to leave until someone lets me out. I get that. I know my plan, kill the sonofabitch, get me out alive. Fight another day.”

“Dean…” Sam glared at his brother. “We’ll be there for you. Cas and I will be stationed at the Barn door. Hannah will be at the rear, her eyes open for any rogue Angels.”

“Or Demons…” Castiel piped up.

“Or Demons,” Sam agreed. “You’re not in this by yourself. You said it best once. _Team Free Will_ \-  one blood junkie, one Knight of Hell, and one ex-fallen Angel.”

Sam turned toward Hannah. “Sorry, Hannah… But we’re accepting membership?”

“Thank you, Sam, but I must decline. This seems like a rather exclusive _club_ -”

“Hannah, really… It would be an honor.” Sam smiled at the Angel.

“I understand, Sam. I am still declining. I am, however, more than happy to assist Team Free Will.” Hannah beamed widely at Sam. He ducked his head with a slight blush at the attention of the female Angel.

“Hannah,” Castiel intoned.

Hannah turned toward Castiel with narrowed eyes. Sam glanced back and forth while Hannah and Castiel glared at each other. Sam chuckled as Hannah backed down with a whispered _fine_. Sam noticed Dean looked oblivious to the scene in front of him.

“Let’s run through this one more time.”

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

Castiel stepped from the barn into the balmy night air. It was late September, but Illinois has been hit with a heat wave the last few days, making the air thick and cloying with heat and precipitation. “Cain is in the Devil’s Trap. He attempted to escape, but the circle is holding.”

Castiel glanced in Dean’s direction. He shuddered briefly at the sight of Sam and Dean in an intimate embrace, unaware that Castiel had even spoken. Sam was _feeding_ from Dean’s neck as he rutted against his brother’s hand. Castiel watched as Dean unzipped Sam’s jeans and took him to hand, deft strokes wringing Sam’s orgasm from him quickly. Dean released Sam’s flesh and hastily wiped his come-covered fingers on the bottom of Sam’s button up, the flannel quickly absorbing the liquid. Castiel turned toward the horizon as Dean took notice of their company.

Castiel watched Dean try not to blush. He overheard something Dean mumbled to himself about a _Knight of Hell_ and _simpering virgins_. Castiel looked on as Dean struggled to will down his own erection. He approached the brothers just as Dean was requesting- no, demanding - that Sam remain outside while he dispatched Cain.

“Cas… you gotta keep Sammy in check,” Dean informed Castiel, his voice whiskey rough. “He won’t listen to me, but maybe he’ll listen to you.”

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel smiled as Hannah approached the group. “Hannah.”

“Castiel.” Hannah nodded and turned toward Dean for instructions.

“Be on alert,” Dean began. “We may be warded from Angels, and Demons may not be able to locate us, but that isn’t gunna stop them from trying. The Demons _should_ stay away if they know what’s best. As far as the Angels are concerned….. Well, let’s just say that they’re not all Cas’ friends. I just don’t wanna see Cas hurt, so you’d better have his back.”

“Of course, Dean,” Hannah agreed and stood to attention. Castiel took in her posture. Always the soldier, Hannah defaulted to at ease once Dean looked away . Her shoulders were squared and her legs apart and semi-loose. She had her hands clasped behind her back and her jaw squared. “You can take your place, Hannah. Just as we spoke.”

Hannah nodded once and briskly made her way to the rear corner of the church. She would provide much appreciated cover if things got bad. Castiel turned toward Sam and clapped him on the shoulder. He and the younger Winchester would be stationed at the doors to the Barn. Castiel had his Angel blade. He knew Sam had a garrison blade as well as Ruby’s knife.

“I will return shortly, Sam. I need to give Dean the Blade.” Castiel gave a smile that he knew came across as tense and less than genuine, but he didn’t care, he _had_ to speak with Dean.”

“What’s up, Cas?” Dean asked, one eyebrow raised as Castiel pulled him by the sleeve to the far side of the barn. He pushed Dean around the corner to keep Sam from spying. “Cas… you’re worrying me.”

“There is nothing wrong.” Castiel stated as he glanced around the corner to ensure that they had not been followed. “I wanted to give you this.”

Castiel pulled the First Blade from the inside pocket of his trenchcoat. He grabbed Dean’s hand and turned it palm up. Castiel gently curled Dean’s fingers around the hilt. He felt the power quickly build, then release itself carefully from Dean’s flesh. Castiel felt Dean’s skin hum with the excess power. He observed Dean’s hand shake, then slowly calm down. The tremor subsided and Castiel pulled his Hunter into a hug. Castiel felt Dean fully relax in his grip and he leaned into Dean’s space. Castiel gave Dean a quick, chaste kiss, and pulled away. He smiled all the way to his eyes and nodded.

Castiel and Dean made their way back to where Sam was waiting. “Well… it’s time,”  Dean chuckled.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” Castiel quipped. He watched as Dean bit his lip and shook his head.

“Where did-” Dean questioned, both eyebrows headed towards his hairline.

“I taught him that,” Sam laughed and slapped his knee, flashing a quick grin.

“Okay, dude.” Dean turned his head back to Castiel, who shrugged his shoulders at the Hunter.

Castiel watched as Dean hugged his brother and whispered something in his ear. He then walked toward Castiel’s location and cuffed him on the arm twice before releasing to walk, alone, to the Barn.

****  
  


**And You Can Sharpen Your Knife**

** **

Dean threw open the doors to the barn. They rattled in their tracks, and flakes of rust drifting down into Dean’s hair. He chuckled and shook his head at the thought of Castiel entering this very barn a similar way six years before. Dean glanced skyward and frowned when the lights did not explode as he walked toward the center of the room. Castiel got lightning and explosions. Dean had silence… the ringing of his boots on the hard floor failed to reach his ears. Dean clutched the First Blade tightly as he neared the Devil’s Trap. He stopped just at the edge and took a deep, cleansing breath.  His next step would be the point of no return.

Cain was pacing the length of the trap. Ten steps, turn, back again. Dean watched and counted. He was cataloguing how Cain placed his feet and the flow of muscle under cloth. He knew this was it. The final showdown between the Father of Murder and the current holder of the Mark.

“Scared, little boy?” Cain sneered as he paused in his pacing. “And here I thought you were worthy of the Mark.”

“Fuck off, Cain.” Dean rolled his eyes as he stepped into the Devil’s Trap. It was now or nothing.

“You’ll never rid yourself of the Mark, Dean. It will consume you… your body… your _soul_. Turn you into nothing but a raging Murderer. You will destroy everything and every _one_ you love.” Cain turned to face the young Hunter fully. “You haven’t got it in you….

Dean lunged forward, sneer twisting his features. Flesh smacked into flesh as he connected a fist to Cain’s left cheek. Cain huffed and swiped the back of his hand against the reddening flesh. “That all you got?”

Dean ducked a swing from Cain, the whoosh of air close to his ear. He dropped into a loose fighting stance and kept his eyes on Cain as he circled the Hunter. Dean bobbed and weaved, his fighting style a combination of Western techniques he picked up over the years. He threw a two-jab at the older Demon and winced as his right hand connected with hard bone. Dean willed his eyes to stay green and attempted to remember the meditation techniques Castiel had taught him to keep his anger in check. He knew there was a time and place for it. Now was not that time.

Dean goaned as Cain elbowed Dean’s right hand and knocked the First Blade spinning across the Trap. He countered by landing a solid left hook to Cain’s nose. Blood spurted from the appendage, Dean’s confirmation that it was indeed broken. He smirked as Cain dropped to his knees and grabbed his nose in an attempt to stave off the river of blood pouring from it. Dean took this as his opportunity to fetch the Blade. He snapped his fingers and the Blade sailed through the humid air and in to Dean’s outstretched palm.

Cain laughed as Dean swiped at the Demon, easily rolling out of the way. “You’ll never be able to kill me, Dean. I’m not a _normal_ Demon. I’m the last living Knight of Hell… A formidable opponent. You think that by having the Mark and a puny jaw bone you can behead me?”

“I think a lot of things, Cain.” Dean spat as he thrust the knife toward Cain. Dean watched Cain duck the knife again and jump to his feet.

“You will never have the pleasure. You will-” Cain fell to the ground as Dean blindsided him with a running take down. He heard the huff of air leave the older Demon’s lungs as they slammed into the floor. Dean grinned and twined a hand into Cain’s greying hair and jerked his head back.

Dean dragged Cain to his knees by his hair, in the middle if the Devil’s Trap. “I’ll never what?” Dean hissed as he pushed the First Blade into Cain’s back, the flesh and muscle resisting the intrusion. Dean grinned as the blood trickled from the Demon’s skin.

“You’ll never stop, Dean. The rage will take over… You’ll kill everyone,” Cain grunted in discomfort. “Your Angel.... Your _Brother_...  Then you’ll be all alone in life. No one to love…”

Dean scowled and pushed the knife deeper.

“No one to love you back.” Cain winced. “You know this won’t kill me.. There is only one way.”

Dean pulled Cain’s head back and smirked when he felt a few of the long strands tear from his head. He gazed deep in the Demon’s haunted blue-grey eyes. “You know… This is where I tell you the great secrets… The things that will haunt you as I watch the light fall from your eyes. Do you want to know, Cain?” Dean tightened his grip.

Cain made no noise. Dean watched as he slowly let out a shaky breath.

“Do you?” Dean growled. “Answer me!”

Cain gave a bare tilt of his head and relaxed his tense body. Dean knew that Cain suspected this was the end.

Dean crouched and rocked on the balls of his feet. His grip on the First Blade loosened as he smiled. “I have found my Collette…. He grounds me… Keeps me sane… Keeps me _whole_. I won’t lose my humanity… But you? You will lose your _life_.”

Dean narrowed his eyes and absently licked his lips. He took one last look into Cain’s face and flashed his eyes black. Cain gasped, his skin paled as the blade slid from his back. Drawing a shaking breath, he nodded. “Just… Just do it already…”

“As you wish.” Dean smirked and chopped of Cain’s head with one swipe. He tried to still his breath as a gasp rang through the barn. Dean looked up from the blood pooling under the severed head to see his brother standing by the door, Castiel hot on his heels.

“I tried to stop him, Dean. But you know Sam… He wouldn’t listen.” Castiel stepped further into the room and came to a halt at the edge of the Devil’s trap. He placed one finger against the red spray paint and burned off a small section. Castiel waltzed into the circle and grabbed Cain’s head by its hair. Dean chuckled as Castiel pulled a face at the… face.

“It’s okay, Cas.” Dean clipped his friend on the shoulder and raised an eyebrow at his brother. Sam still hovered in the open doorway. “Do you need a gilded invitation, Sammy?”

Sam darted forward and swept Dean into a hug. His large hands coiled tightly around his brother’s body. Dean felt the air rush from his lungs as Sam tightened his grip further.

“Can’t- breathe- Sam,” Dean huffed.

“Oh my God! Sorry.” Sam let his brother down gently and instead cuffed his shoulders. He held the elder Winchester out at arm’s length and twisted him back and forth to inspect for damage. Dean closed his eyes. “What’s wrong, Dean?”

Dean pushed Sam’s arms off his body and paced slightly, a few steps back and forth in front of his Sam. He knew that the longer he paced, the more upset his brother would get, but Dean couldn’t help it. “The First Blade… It’s clouding my judgement. The more I kill….” Dean’s hand began the shake. He glanced down at the Blade currently occupying itself in his grasp. He tightened hold of the offensive material and shuddered.

Sam reached for the Blade and Dean growled, moving to clutch it tight to his chest. “Dean….” Sam turned toward his brother’s Angel. “Cas… you gotta help. What’s happening?”

Castiel dropped Cain’s head onto the hard dirt and swiftly moved to Dean’s side. He glanced at his Hunter, then Sam. “Sam… Leave me. I need to see if I can retrieve your brother from the place he has put himself in. You may not want to be here.”

Sam reluctantly agreed and left mumbling something about talking with Hannah since Dean’s Angel doesn’t trust him.

Cas stepped directly in front of Dean and rolled his eyes as Dean pulled the First Blade closer to his chest. Castiel scratched the back of his neck, a habit that he picked up from his brief time as a human, and looked directly into Dean’s black eyes. He shook his head and gently placed his hands on Dean’s shoulders.

“Dean…” Castiel sighed. He waited as Dean tensed again, then relaxed his upper body. “Turn your eyes back, Dean… Please?”

Dean shook his head and sighed. He slowly let his eyes bleed back to green. He shivered and dropped his head on Castiel’s shoulder. Cas ran his hands lightly up and down Dean’s arms before engulfing him in an embrace. “Shh… It’s okay.”

Dean dropped the First Blade to the dirt with a clatter and wrapped his arms around his Angel. Castiel pulled back slightly and kissed Dean’s forehead. “I’ve got you, Dean… Let it go.”

Dean succumbed to his Angel’s kiss. He opened his mouth as Castiel’s tongue gently probed and twisted. Dean pulled the Angel closer, let all his fear, his frustration, his _anger_ pour into that simple kiss. Dean’s eyes briefly flashed black and he tensed. Dean snaked one hand around Castiel’s back and tangled the other in the Angel’s messy locks. He pulled Castiel closer and slotted his thigh against Castiel’s growing erection.

Dean groaned as he felt his cock fill with blood. He thrust into Castiel’s groin and broke the kiss to gasp for breath. He licked his lips and drew in a shaking breath as his eyes snapped open. “Cas. I--”

“Shh. Let it out. What I can give you, I shall.”

“Cas…” Green eyes were clouded with lust, bloodied fingers twining into the short dark brown strands. He pulled his Angel’s head slightly to the side and then fastened his mouth over Castiel’s and hummed at the groan, swallowing down the sound. He rocked himself into the hardness of the other man and then stumbled back a step, easily stepping away from the spreading puddle of demon blood.

“Dean… are you--” Cas was cut off by a tongue twisting into his mouth, but he went to his knees when Dean sank to his own. Dean nipped and growled, eyes flickering black for a moment. Cas managed to suck in a breath as Dean’s hand left his hair and slid down his back. The other hand wormed its way into his shirt and tugged it up.

Dean nudged the Angel flat on his back and groaned; one instant his eyes were green and the next they were black, flickering between colors as he nipped and kissed, hips pressing sharply into the being spread out beneath him.

“So god-damned good.”

“Dean.” Castiel said his name like a benediction. Dean snarled and ground himself against the Angel’s hip. He heard a blurt of noise and felt the Angel arch under him. Dean sank his teeth into his lower lip as he felt himself shudder and heat shot through his groin, leaving a wet slick mess on the inside of his jeans.

“Cas,” Dean moaned as he chased his Angel’s mouth. Dean planted a chaste kiss on Castiel and pushed himself from the floor. He extended a hand to help Castiel up. “Com’on Cas. Sam’ll be wondering what we are up to.”

“I should go hide the Blade.” Castiel scooped the forgotten knife off the ground and shoved it into an internal coat pocket. He tipped his head to the side and willed himself clean.

“Umm… Cas? Buddy? You gunna leave me hanging?” Dean pulled at the front of his jeans, the sticky come now cooled in his briefs.

“Of course not, Dean.” Castiel placed a finger to Dean’s head. He cleaned the Hunter of sweat and spunk, leaving the blood splatter and injuries in place. “We should go to Sam and Hannah.”

Dean shook his head and walked from the barn. He turned left and immediately barreled into a solid body. “Sammy! Shit, man. You gotta stop scaring me like that.”

Sam laughed and grabbed Dean’s arms. “You gotta just watch where you’re going, big brother. I was just coming to look for you. You and Cas were in there a long time. Everything okay?”

Dean glanced at the ground and let out a shaky breath. “Everything is fine now, Sammy.” Dean looked up and smiled. He cuffed his brother hard on the arm and pushed Sam off his body. “Really, Sam. It’s cool. Cas took care of it. He’s gonna go hide the Blade and then we’ll get back to planning Crowley’s demise.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother and cocked his head. “Okay…. Well, I’m glad that’s taken care of,” Sam stated sarcastically. He shook his head at Dean and chuckled.

“Sam,” Castiel intoned and stepped up to the younger brother. “I will hide the Blade and meet you back at the Bunker in a week’s time. Hannah and I have a slight rebellion on our hands. Nothing that we cannot handle, but it will take some man power.”

“Cas?” Dean raised his hands slightly, palms out.

“Oh! You are injured?” Castiel moved toward the older Winchester. He placed a finger on Dean’s forehead and cleaned the blood and bruises from his body.

“Thanks man.” Dean smiled.

“I must go.” Castiel turned toward Hannah and motioned the other Angel to return to Heaven. He turned slightly to fly off and stopped. “Dean… now that Cain is dead… Can I have his bees?”

Dean shook his head at the Angel. “Go, Cas. We’ll talk about it later.”

Sam smiled and turned toward the space the Angel just occupied. “Is everything really okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be, Sam? Cain is dead… Crowley will be soon. It’s all gravy baby!” Dean chuckled as Sam shook his head. “So, hey? Wanna go burn a dead body?”

**To Keep the Goddess by my Side**

****   


 

Dean pulled into the Gas n Sip off Hwy 281N in Hastings, Nebraska. It was only about an hour north of the Bunker, but Dean decided that instead of travelling back and forth every day, they would stay for the duration of the Hunt. They had caught wind of a haunting at Longfellow Elementary in town. A young boy had been abused by his father for years before he died from his injuries one day at school. No one there had believed the boy. The father was eventually found out after the abuse started on the boy’s little sister. The place apparently had been haunted since the 1960’s. Sam knew the boy’s father died in prison just the year before last. The boy’s ghost, however, had become restless.

“It’s really sad when it’s kids, huh?” Sam questioned as Dean reentered the car from fueling up. Sam found it amusing that Dean still chose to drive everywhere even though he could technically just teleport.

“Of course it is. I may be a Demon, Sam, but I still think it’s shitty to kill kids.” Dean scoffed. “It’s shitty to kill people who don’t deserve it. But, it’s a good thing there are enough shady mother fuckers in the world to gank.”

“So, I did a little research today before we left…” Sam smiled from his seat.

“Lay it on me. What are we walking into?” Dean rolled his eyes as he adjusted the bag of snacks in the back seat. Sam knew that Dean was meticulous about keeping Baby clean and putting away their ‘road food’ was one part of that.

“Well… The building that houses the school was built in 1926. In 53, they added a couple of Kindergarten rooms and two 2nd grade classrooms. That’s where the ghost seems to be haunting. In the 70’s they converted the older classrooms to the Kindergarteners, so you can imagine how scared a bunch of 5 and 6 year olds are when shit starts happening in their classroom. The District refuses to believe that anything is happening there, even though there is paranormal activity reports dating back into the 1960’s.”

“So, we thinking that this 2nd grader up and died in one of the rooms?” Dean turned back into the drivers seat.

“Well, yeah. That’s what all the records state. Came in from recess and collapsed on the carpet in front of the door. Never even made it back in the room. Died before the ambulance could get there.” Sam sighed and ran his hand through his long hair.

“Well… We’ll put that little boy to rest. Give him some closure. Ghost killing doesn’t quite feed the Mark enough, but it helps.” Dean turned the key in the ignition. The Impala roared to life.

“Yeah, good thing, huh? It’s important to keep the Mark fed.” Sam chuckled and patted Dean’s arm.

“It’s important to keep you fed too, Sammy.” Dean leaned over and pulled Sam into a passionate kiss. Sam quickly took the upper hand and slid Dean onto his lap. He deepened the kiss and pushed his erection up into his brother’s.

Sam sighed into Dean’s mouth as his brother mapped his tonsils. He let Dean take over as Sam felt the low roll of his orgasm tear through his abdomen. He shuddered as the warm splash of come coated the inside of his boxers. Sam brought his hand down and gently squeezed and coaxed his brother to completion through the thick layer of denim.

“So good, Sammy.” Dean groaned as he shivered from what Sam assumed was the intensity.

“Anything to help my big brother out.” Sam ran a hand down Dean’s back as he felt the thunk of Dean’s head hitting his shoulder.

“The things you do for me, Sammy.” Dean moaned.

“You mean the things I do _to_ you.” Sam chuckled and pushed his brother off his lap. “Com’on, fatso… Get off and drive us to the motel. I need to get out of these…” Sam pulled on the front of his pants. “sticky _fuckin’_ jeans.”

Dean laughed and climbed the rest of the way off Sam. He smirked as he adjusted in the driver’s seat and peeled out of the parking lot., gravel flying behind the car. Sam sat in shock, his eyes wide and mouth a gaping hole. He just realised they got off at a gas station… in front of the pumps… on camera.

**~~.~~.~~.~~**

Dean punched the wall of the motel room. He narrowed his eyes at the offending sunflowers. Dean hated when Hunts went sideways. Sam was currently semi-conscious on the bed, twenty-seven stitches in his left flank. Dean thought they had the upper hand on the spirit of the 7 year old. They obviously underestimated how angry the child was in life. Dean was able to salt and burn the bones effectively, putting the boy to rest finally. Of course, not before the ghost slammed Sam into the work desk in the school’s Boiler Room. It tore a six inch gash into Sam’s left side deep enough that Dean almost wasn’t able to deal with himself. He was still debating on whether or not to take Sam to the hospital. He figured that he would just go ‘acquire’ some tetanus booster and a vial of penicillin in case Sam developed an infection from the rusty metal.

“Sam, I’m going out.” Sam grunted from across the room, clearly in pain. “I’m gunna go get you drugs. Promise I’ll bring back some of the good stuff.”

Sam waved him off and Dean smiled at his brother. Sam was laying prone on top of the bedspread in just his boxer briefs. One leg hung haphazardly off the bed. Dean stilled himself and with just a thought transported to Mary Lanning Memorial, the local hospital. He made sure to land in their drug room, knowing that it would be the only way in the normally locked supply area.

Dean set his duffel on the counter and unzipped the bag. He took a moment to glance around the room. It appeared to not just be the drug storage, but their medical supply room too. Dean smiled to himself, happy that he wouldn’t have to make a second trip into the hospital. He was pushing it as it was.  He moved quickly to the refrigerated cabinet and grabbed two vials of penicillin and a vial of tetanus vaccine. He crouched down the the locked storage drawer and twitched two fingers, breaking the locking mechanism. Dean opened the broken door and pulled out two vials of morphine, a vial of Valium and one of cyclobenzaprine. He knew that alternating would be the best for Sam. There was no way he hadn’t broken a few ribs in that fall.  Dean placed the drugs in an inner zippered pocket of the duffle and rooted around in one of the cabinets until he found needles and syringes. He grabbed a box of each and a packet of local, injectable anesthetic. Those went into the bag along with IV tubing and a few saline bags. He grabbed a handful of 18 gauge and a couple 14 gauge IV sets.

Dean spied the sterile suture kits and threw six in his bag. He figured it would be a good idea to sew Sam up with legitimate sutures instead of dental floss. He found a pair of durable clothing scissors in a drawer and grabbed those along with a packet of alcohol wipes. Dean chuckled at the jackpot he found in the fourth cabinet. There were bandages and gauzes of every size and weight. Dean stuffed handfuls into the duffel and wished he had Wizardspace like Hermione’s beaded bag in the Harry Potter books. He found a couple of unopened bottles of iodine and chucked those in as well.

Dean stood and took a quick look around the room to see if there was anything else they could use. He noticed an opened box on one of the low tables in the room filled with what appeared to be casting supplies. Dean whooped as he made his way over to the treasure chest. He removed all of the colors of casting except pink and threw in the cast saw and a couple more yards of padding. Dean sealed the top up and moved the box to the table. He zipped and shouldered the duffel and hauled the box under his arm. Dean stilled himself for a second time that day and transported the supplies back to the motel room.

He placed the box and duffel on the spare bed and decided to drive to the local diner to pick Sam up some food.

“Lucy! I’m hooo-oome!” Dean called out an hour later as he made his way into the room with a bag of take-away. He was able to procure a grilled chicken and strawberry salad for his Moose with some kind of seedy white dressing. He placed the bag and a few bottles of water on the rickety table.

“Sammy…  I brought rabbit food!” Dean walked toward the empty bed and sat down next to his bag. Sam stirred lightly and grunted into his pillow. “Let’s get some medicine into you, then you can eat.”

“Dun’wana.” Sam groaned as he raised then abruptly lower his head back onto the pillow.

“Well… too bad.” Dean shook his head and pulled out a syringe and needle. He grabbed the vials of medication and laid them on the bed next to his bag. “it’s a shame that you didn’t go pre-med. I hope that I am converting correctly. Don’t wanna kill you or anything.”

“Gimme.” Sam flailed his arm and reached for Dean.

“I don’t think so, Gigantor. I will tell you what I have, and you can figure out how much you need.  The first one is the tetanus stuff so you don’t get all lock-jaw’y on me.” Dean pressed the syringe into the vial and tipped it upside down like Bobby had taught him.

“That’s not even- whatever, Dean.” Sam sighed from his position on the bed. “0.5ml, ninety degrees straight into the meat of my outside shoulder. make a v, place the needle in the middle. I assume you grabbed the right needles?”

“Yeah… I got a few different sizes, but these were with the vaccines, so I figure they are the right ones.” Dean drew down the medicine and wiped Sam’s shoulder with the cold alcohol. He pushed in the plunger and smiled as he drew back the needle from his brother’s arm. He put the cap back on and grabbed another vial from the bed. “What about the Valium?”

“Well, that should go in an IV port, Dean. I don’t think I need it right now. Maybe to sleep, but I am good…” Sam abruptly broke into a coughing fit. Dean jumped up from the bed and pushed lightly on his little brother’s back, adding pressure to his chest. Sam calmed down and stopped his fit. “Thanks, Dean. That fucking hurt.”

“I bet,” Dean stood from his place and moved back over to the other bed. “Okay… well, how about the antibiotic? You should definitely have some of that. Don’t need you getting an infection.”

“That one is… give me a sec.” Dean knew Sam was thinking back to the field med training he received in High School from their Father. “That one has to go IV, Dean. After dinner you can hook me up and I’ll sleep with it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. You want some of this morphine?” Dean smiled and shook the little vial of pain reliever.

“You gunna feed me?” Sam smiled and batted his puppy dog eyes at Dean. “I won’t be able to remember my name after you give me that shit.”

“Sure, Sammy. You probably need a port for it, huh?” Dean grabbed an 18 gauge IV needle and a port. He wiped down Sam’s hand and threaded the needle in the vein like an expert. Dean flushed the port just like he had seen in the hospital and taped it down.

“Fuck, Dean. You should be one of those fancy phleboto- pheleb- blood draw-er people.” Sam laughed and stopped as he was struck with another coughing fit.

“No laughing for you, Sammy Sam.” Dean chided. “I am just naturally good at these things. So, how much morphine do you need?”

“1mg for now. Too much and I may pass out in seconds.”

Dean pushed the morphine bolus through Sam’s IV port and flushed a bit of saline in. He stood, recapped the syringe and threw it on top of his bag. Dean made his way over to the table and dragged the bag of food and one of the water bottles toward himself.

****  
  


“Prop yourself up, little baby.” Dean scooped up the bag and shook it. “Daddy’s gotta nummy salad for you.”

Sam’s stilted laugh rang through the room. “You are such a- I’m not- it’s _highly_ inappropriate to call yourself _Daddy_ to me.”

“Not really,” Dean stated as he crawled on the bed and sat next to his brother. “don’t look at me like that- I raised you, not Dad. So, in some perverted sense, I’m your Daddy.”

“Fuck you, jerk.” Sam halfheartedly slapped Dean’s shoulder.

“Bitch.” Dean replied without thought. “You know you have a Daddy-Kink.”

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

Sam spent the next five days waylaid in their motel bed. Dean researched hunts on Sam’s laptop and disappeared a few times to go off with Castiel. Each time he came back, Dean was freshly showered and very relaxed. Sam didn’t want to pry, but he figured that Dean and Castiel were still sparring on a regular basis.

Dean returned Monday afternoon, six days after their battle with the ghost at Longfellow. He set a bag of food on the bed next to Sam. “Hey.”

“Hey you.” Sam replied, digging his salad shaker out of the takeaway bag.

“So, I think I found us a hunt.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam dumped the dressing into the plastic container and tipped it back and forth before shaking violently.

“Yeah. There are a bunch of killings- well, ritual sacrifices is more like it- happening over in Kenosha, Wisconsin. I figure, if we leave now… We could be there in …” Dean glanced at his watch. “a little over ten hours.”

“Any clue what it might be?” Sam stabbed his fork into the lettuce and veggie salad and shoved an extra large bite into his mouth.”

“Not really. Know it’s not a vamp, not werewolves. Doesn’t fit the MO. Besides, the reports claimed the bodies were strung up in a clearing in the woods. The ground below was swept clean. So, we can rule out Wendigo. Not a shifter or a Skinwalker. Maybe some type of God or Goddess.” Sam raised both eyebrows at his brother’s thought. “The problem with that is, well, the usual. There are so many out there. We’ll need to see the bodies, talk to the witnesses. Hopefully, they will help us narrow it down.”

“Yeah, I hope so.” Sam smiled. “So… my stitches can come out today.”

Dean grinned back at his brother and shook his head. “We really don’t have time for that, Sammy.”

Sam put his best puppy dog eyes on and frowned at Dean. “Please?”

Dean rolled his eyes and smiled. “I could never deny you anything, little brother.” Sam perked up as Dean grabbed the suture removal kit and set aside his salad.

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

 

** **

Sam and Dean pulled into the Stay-Away Motel on the outskirts of Kenosha. Dean laughed at the name. Even with the hyphen, there was no explaining away that one. “I’ll go check us in, Dean.” Sam popped open the glove box and pulled out his fake drivers license and credit card.

“Good old James E Jones. This has to be the _lamest_ Men of Letters yet. Can’t see why I can’t use Henry’s stuff… At least he was a Winchester.”

“You know why, Sam. Can’t have the _real_ Feds on our trail. Now go. Before I change my mind and make you get two queens.” Dean shook his head and chuckled.

Sam gasped and clutched his hand to his chest. “You wouldn’t!”

Dean smacked his brother’s arm and threw back his head in laughter. “I would. Now go!” Dean watched as Sam sauntered toward the Motel Office. He stilled his breath and prayed.

“Castiel, who art in Heaven… Get your feathery ass down here and let me see you… Amen.” Dean closed his eyes.

The sound of wind and feathers permeated the back seat of the Impala. Dean took a deep breath, the smell of ozone and earth filled his nostrils. He took another breath and caught a slight hint of heat and brimstone. Dean knew that Cas’ wings were singed in his rescue from Hell and then burned further when the Angels fell. Dean spared a glance in the rearview mirror of his Angel. He was always in awe of Castiel’s _true_ face. Dean wondered what his  true  face appeared to be. He also wondered what Castiel’s view on his face was.

“Your true face is not hideous, Dean. Besides, I mostly just see your soul and not your _Demon_ face. I have always gazed at your soul. It is _beautiful_ , Dean.”

Dean blushed under the praise. He cleared his throat and turned around in his seat to face his Angel. “We need to get Sam trained better.” Dean led with a non sequitur. “He needs to learn to harness his powers more than I can help him. Crowley isn’t gunna go down without a fight, but he couldn’t keep Lucifer at bay very long. I just worry about him. The King of Hell is afforded powers no normal Demon can possess. He can’t practice on me for _obvious_ reasons…”

Castiel smiled at his Hunter. “I will assist in training Sam. Hannah may be willing to help. She finds Sam aesthetically pleasing.”

Dean narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “Well, as long as there is no funny business.”

“I am sure that there will not be an issue. Hannah has been told that she cannot pursue relations with Sam. That he has a soulmate and that God has plans for the both of you.” Castiel rolled his eyes. “I hate to impress on her like that, but they all believe that I receive my orders from… from God. Or at least Joshua. It is a convenient lie.”

“Aww. Look at my little boy, all growed up.” Dean cooed and clapped Castiel on the shoulder. “You’d better skedaddle. Sam is on the way back.”

Sure enough, Sam was walking back from the office, door key swinging from the index finger of his right hand. Dean watched his brother approach the car and get in the passenger seat. “We’re on the other side of the building. There is only one other room occupied for a few days. Some travelling salesman who’s here through Thursday. We did score a pretty impressive room according to the owner. Seems naming your motel _Stay Away_ has obvious disadvantages.” Sam laughed.

Dean pulled into a parking space in front of room 1463. He took quick stock of their surroundings before killing the engine and exiting the car. He stepped out from the car and retrieved their four bags from the trunk. Sam had taken to carrying a small library that he was painstakingly transcribing and scanning into an online database for Hunters. Dean was very proud of his brother’s accomplishments. In the past six months, he was able to translate and catalog an entire shelf of information on vampires and their creation and hunting habits. Dean wouldn’t normally consider this a feat, but since the text in the books was copied from tablets over 3000 years old, and written in Ancient Sumerian to boot… Dean was impressed.

Dean allowed Sam to open the motel room and whistled when the light flicked on. The room was done in pale green. There was a separate dining area and a large galley kitchen with a full sized refrigerator and stove. It reminded Dean of the places John used to rent when they were little and going to be stuck in one spot for longer than a week. It normally wasn’t the type of room he went for, choosing cost over luxury, but Sam said something about getting a deal.

“So, we have this room for at least the next two weeks, maybe longer- if we need it.” Sam grabbed his bags from Dean and set the heavier bag on the dining table. “Even though you don’t eat, I figured you could spend the time cooking for me.”

“Oh, you just wanted me to play housewife, Sammy?” Dean crossed the small expanse to his brother and crowded him against the wall. Dean pushed his hips into Sam and trailed his fingers up his arm. “Who’s in charge now, huh?” Dean watched Sam swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He pressed his body further into Sam’s and rubbed his half-hard erection against his brothers thigh.

“Umm…” Sam blinked, gasping, question forgotten. Dean smirked, raised up on his toes and planted a chaste kiss on Sam’s nose.

“You’re too funny, dude.” He pulled away from Sam and crossed the room. Dean flopped on the dark green and black plaid duvet and snatched the remote from the bedside table. He flipped to TNT and settled down to watch the weekly marathon of Dr Sexy. He caught Sam gaping like a fish out of the corner of his eye. “Dude.” Dean dug the Impala keys out of his right front pocket.

“Go get yourself some food. There’s gotta be a good grocery store somewhere in this town.” Dean chucked the keys at Sam and smiled as he deftly plucked them from the air. “Okay, I’ll be back later then.”

Sam turned and headed for the door. Dean decided to wholeheartedly devote his attention to the tv.

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

“So, get this.” Sam looked up from his laptop. Dean was still watching the Dr Sexy marathon. Sam rolled his eyes and clicked the mouse a couple of times.

“Huh?” Dean waved absently from the bed.

“I think that I have found something.” Sam sighed. He ran his hands through his hair and blew an errant strand out of his eyes. “You know how the Coroner said that they thought the clearing where the bodies have been found has been swept clean. No tracks, drag marks, that sort of thing?”

“Yeah, and some people are crazy.” Dean smiled.

“Well… so if we go by our earlier idea that this is some sort of Goddess… There has to be a person or people helping her out. It’s always that way…”

“No, there was that one time- The Paris Hilton God that wasn’t getting help…” Dean smirked at the thought of the Paris look a like.

“Whatever, Dean.” Sam rolled his eyes. “The Coroner said that all of the victims were female, mid twenties to thirties… and get this- Pregnant.”

Dean sat up abruptly from the bed and shut the tv off. “Really?”

“Yeah. All at least twenty weeks. The fetuses were cut out, the mothers strung by their limbs. He said that they were all alive when they were delivered.” Sam cringed. He hated when innocent people were murdered.

“Child or mother, Sam?”

“Both? Or so they think. The babies wouldn’t have lived very long. I think there was a ritual performed. There was residual candle wax found near the center of the circle. The cops must have missed it. I wonder if the babies were…” Sam shuddered. “... eaten.”

“Do we have _any_ idea of the God or Goddess we are dealing with?” Dean leaned forward and closed his eyes.

“Yeah, that I do. Some call her Toci. The Grandmother. Coatlicue. The Mother of Gods. Pre-Columbian Aztec. She gave birth to the moon and stars. What I don’t get… She is the Patron God of women who die in childbirth. So why is she allowing babies to be sacrificed?”

“Who knows with these Gods. It could be anything, Sam.” Dean sighed. “I hate baby killers just as much as you. We need to stake this place out. The cops seem to think that she won’t be back. I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Of course, Dean. Stake out it is.” Sam stood and grabbed his jacket, shrugging into it even as he grabbed the already prepared duffel from the end of their bed.

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

“Sam and Dean Winchester…” The Goddess Toci set down the infant she had partially consumed. “I wondered if you would showed up.”

Dean stood, hands crossed and raised an eyebrow. “Really? And why is that?”

“Well… I heard you’re working for a certain Demon now…. That as a Knight of Hell, you are taking orders from the King.” Toci smiled.

“We’re-” Dean clamped a hand on Sam’s arm.

“So, you found me out. Sure, I’m working with Crowley. He may be a pain, but he is the _King_.” Dean smiled and flashed his eyes black. “But, why the babies?”

“Oh, that?” Toci waved her hand toward the dead mother and child, and then brought a bloody finger to her mouth to lick clean. “A woman in this town’s twin sister died in childbirth from some genetic disorder. She is now pregnant herself and the Doctors have told her that she will suffer the same fate if she does not abort. I demanded a sacrifice of her and she provided. Babies for her baby.”

“You’re sick.” Sam piped up. “The Mother… willing to- it’s sickening.”

“I benefited.” The Goddess smirked.

“At the cost of _how_ many lives? Twenty?” Sam scoffed. “Ten mothers. Ten unborn babies. For the life of one?”

“For the life of one.” Toci crouched to the ground and drew a sigil in the dirt. “I demanded one hundred. She would have provided, you know.”

“No doubt that she would have. And when we find her…” Dean flexed his fingers toward the gun tucked in his waistband.

“I will stand down. Go back to where I came…” The Goddess stood and smiled. “But I demand something of you.”

“And what is that?” Dean questioned.

“The body of the King. His vessel here. In three days time. I leave. No more babies… At least not here.”

“I don’t know…” Dean turned toward Sam. “What do you think, Sammy? Is it worth it?”

Sam sighed and shook his head. “It does seem promising… But do you want to double cross your boss? What if he finds out and kills you?”

“That may be a risk we have to take. I don’t think that I want another God after me.”

“Yeah, the last one was bad enough.”

“Yeah… But maybe we shouldn’t. It’s a big risk…” Sam swiped his foot through the dirt and drew a line. “I just don’t know.”

“Well… I don’t have all day.” Toci picked at a bit of flesh under her long nails.

Dean turned toward Sam further and whispered. “Well… I think that we have strung her along for long enough.” Dean turned back toward the Goddess and raised his voice. “Sure. It may be a stretch. Three days. Do you want the vessel alive?”

“It would be preferable.” Toci looked up from her hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Dean stalked up the the Goddess and extended his hand. “We have a deal.”

**When I’m Alone with You**

****   


 

Dean pushed back from his seat at the desk in his room. He rubbed his eyes and ran a shaky hand through his hair. The last case had taken a lot out of him. Dean still couldn’t believe that yet another Goddess got the drop on them. It felt like they couldn’t catch a break.

Dean walked to the small sink and turned the hot water tap. The metal squeaked as it spun. Dean made a mental note to pick up some WD-40 next time they were in town. There were quite a few squeaky and rusty hinges around the Bunker that could do with a shot of the good stuff. He glanced at his own reflection. The bags under his eyes glared back at him. Dean knew he was giving Sam too much blood, pushing too hard in training. They had to defeat Crowley, and soon. Heaven was running smoothly under the advisement of Hannah and Castiel, and Hell was, well _Hell_. Dean knew that a total restructuring would need to be done. Crowley still had Demons breaking Crossroads deals and not giving Humans a fair shake. Dean also felt that maybe using Juliet to scare people was a bit much.

Dean stared hard into the mirror. He flashed his eyes back and forth between black and green. His grip on the sink basin tightened and Dean felt the porcelain crack under the pressure. Dean grew more and more frustrated the longer his eyes switched. He felt a flare in the Mark and knew, just knew, someone or something was going to have to die that night.

Dean jumped as he felt slim fingers wrap around his forearm. He had been so caught up in his own world that he didn’t even notice Castiel appearing in the room. The Angel pushed aside the gun as a matter of course. “Hello, Dean.”

“Fuck, Cas! How many times do I have to tell you….   _Personal Space_.” Dean uncocked his pistol and retucked it into the back of his jeans.  “I almost fuckin’ shot you!”

“I assure you, Dean that had you shot me, it would have left no lasting effect.” Castiel removed his hand from Dean’s arm. “It was never my intention to startle you, Dean.”

“It’s never your intention for a lot of things, Cas. That hasn’t stopped you in the past.” Dean shook his head. He turned his back toward the Angel and stared into the mirror.

“Dean… I need you to stay with me here,” Castiel placed both his hands on Dean’s waist. He leaned forward and nosed the tiny hairs at the bottom of Dean’s hairline. Castiel placed open mouthed kisses on Dean’s skin, his tongue darting out to taste the sweet saltiness.

“Cas.” Dean moaned and pushed back into his Angel. “Feels- feels so good.”

Dean felt Castiel push his narrow hips into Dean’s ass. He groaned at the feel of Castiel’s erection rubbing the rough jean material. Dean pushed back slightly at Castiel to get him to move. “I gotta get my gun out of there.”

“Sorry, Dean.” Castiel scooted back and removed his right hand from Dean’s hip to allow for maneuvering. Dean slipped the gun out, checked the chamber out of habit, and set the gun on the ledge of the sink. He spun around in the Angel’s arms and laid his head on Castiel’s shoulder. Dean’s arms hugged Castiel tighter and he let out a single sob.

“I can’t- it’s too-” Dean shuddered and pulled Castiel tighter.

“And they say becoming a Demon makes you incapable of showing love and affection. I think that you are still quite capable.” Castiel shushed Dean and ran his hands up and down his back. Dean knew he was trying to be sympathetic. He allowed the Angel his moment. Dean stilled his breath and smiled. He felt Castiel shift, his cheek brushing against his hair. He felt Castiel’s hot breath ghost over his ear. Slightly chapped lips butterfly kissed his neck. Dean moaned and stretched his neck out further. He welcomed the affection.

“Cas…” Dean whispered as he pushed his hands up and under Castiel’s shirt.

“Shh… Dean… Just let me.” Cas nipped gently at Dean’s ear. “You need this.”

Dean sighed as Castiel turned Dean around and wrapped his strong arms around the Hunters frame. He tucked one hand under Dean’s shirt against the hard plane of his abs and popped the button on Dean’s jeans with the other. Castiel snaked a hand into his underwear and palmed his heavy cock. Dean gasped as long fingers wrapped around his erection.

“Cas… Can we?” Dean leaned his head back on Castiel’s shoulder.

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel walked Dean backwards toward the bed, showering Dean’s neck with kisses.

**~~..~~..~~..~~**

Sam set the heavy tome back into its spot on the shelf. The library was finally clean. He had spent the last three hours picking up after Dean and Castiel’s research. He chuckled at the fact that Dean liked to keep everything meticulously clean, but when it came to reshelving books, he took after Bobby. Sam started down the hallway, stopping in the laundry room to throw the dust rag he had been using into the basket, and made his way to his room. He grabbed his shower basket from the ledge, a hold out from spending so many years moving around and packing at a moments notice, and headed toward the shower room.

Sam stepped out from the shower room, his hair slightly dripping on his bare shoulders. He heard a bang against the wall from somewhere near Dean’s room. Sam turned the opposite direction of his room and headed toward his brother’s. He heard another bang and a shout and wished that he had brought his handgun with him. Sam hurried toward Dean’s room and noticed that the door was slightly ajar. He heard muffled noises coming from inside the room and decided not to go in guns blazing. Sam hung back outside the door and peered through the crack.

He gasped at the sight before him. Dean was naked, his back glistening, straddling Castiel’s lap. They were on the bed, Dean riding his Angel for all he was worth. Sam narrowed his eyes as his brother’s moans filled the small space and echoed through the hallway. He quickly decided to not interrupt the two, no matter how hurt he felt. Dean had promised that he wasn’t having a physical relationship with his Angel, but this just confirmed that Dean had been lying to him. Now, all of the times that Dean showed up late at their motel room freshly showered made sense. He didn’t want Sam to figure out that he was sneaking off to have sex with someone else. If it would have been a women, Sam could have forgiven him… But another guy, and not just any guy, but _Castiel_... That was drawing the line.

Sam figured he would keep things to himself for the time being. They were one step closer to killing Crowley. He knew that this was a job that had to be done, so Sam decided that he would wait until Crowley was dead to confront Dean about Castiel. He abruptly turned, not wanting to hear the sound of disappointment any longer, and set off to his room.

**She Demands a Sacrifice**

****   


 

Sam shook the can and applied the last symbol to the devils trap. He stood back to allow the red paint a second to dry. Dean stood at the ready, his  blood dripping slowly into the metal bowl. Sam nodded and Dean struck the match in his other hand. The dried herbs flared as Dean recited the short spell.

Sam smirked as Crowley appeared disheveled in the center of the devils trap. “Hello, Crowley.” Sam grinned wider as he stalked to the edge of the circle.

“Moose. Squirrel. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Crowley picked the nails on his left hand.

“You know what we want, _Boris_.” Dean spat from his spot on the floor. “We didn’t call you here to hold hands and braid each other’s hair.”

“And here I thought you were my _bestest_ friend. You wound me.” Crowley smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Crowley repeated again. “My masseuse is coming in an hour and I need to be prepared.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Sam twitched his left hand. Crowley’s eyes started to widen and a hand went to his throat. “Castiel… who art in Heaven…. Crowley’s here. It’s time. Amen.”

Castiel appeared with a flutter of wings and displaced air. In his hand was a burlap sack. Sam smiled knowing that the bag contained Crowley’s bones. “I have the bones, Sam.”

Sam watched as Castiel handed the bag over to Dean. Dean moved toward the 55 gallon steel drum they brought to the dungeon earlier that day. He dumped the bones unceremoniously into the barrel and smiled, his eyes flashing black.

Crowley’s eyes widened further and he dropped to his knees. “You wouldn’t.” He choked out crawling toward the edge of the trap. “I’m the Bloody King of Hell. You _have_ to listen to me. I own you!”

Dean shook his head and scoffed. “You don’t own me. You’re nothing to me.” He flicked the lid of his zippo open and close.

Sam twitched his hand toward the King of Hell and red smoke started to leave from his lips. Sam turned his hand slowly rotating up until it was palm up. Red smoke flowed like water from the Demon and pooled around his vessel on the floor. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Dean doused the bones with gasoline. Tears leaked from Crowley’s eyes, the remnants of his humanity showing.

“Please, Sam, please.” Crowley pleaded through the tears.

“Too little too late, Crowley.” Sam smirked. He twitched his fingers further and the Demon’s vessel went ridged as more of his essence poured from his mouth. Sam waited until the flow ebbed and turned his head slightly toward his brother and nodded.

Dean flipped the cap on his zippo and spun the flywheel, the sparrk catching the wick. Dean watched the tiny flame momentarily before tossing the metal into the drum. Crowley’s bones went up in a blaze. The fore licking the edges of the steel. Crowley’s vessel started to pop and crack, the red smoke caught and began to burn. The King of Hell screamed. Sam laughed as he watched Crowley’s body and essence burn into nothingness. He turned around to face his brother and Castiel.

“Sammy….” Dean groaned as he slowly approached his brother.

“No, Dean. You don’t get to-” Sam shook his head and crossed his arms across his chest. Dean stalked up to him and placed his hands on Sam’s elbows. “No, Dean. Not anymore. You don’t get to-”

Sam ripped himself away from Dean and turned toward the Angel. “And you- I _trusted_ you! And this- _This_ is how you repay me? You fuck my brother? He’s mine! I don’t care what you used to justify this _relationship_ ,” Sam spat, “but you just went and killed my puppy.”

“I don’t get-” Castiel started, his brow twisted in confusion.

“Cas…” Dean hissed. “Don’t…”

“I saw you, you know.” Sam turned fully to the Angel. “That day a few weeks ago in Dean’s room? After the Hunt we went on in Kenosha?”

“Fuck…” Dean whispered.  
  


“Yeah, fuck. Which is exactly what you did, Dean.” Sam narrowed his eyes. “I can’t trust you. Just how long have you and _Castiel_ been fucking?”

Dean mumbled under his breath. Sam thought he heard _months_ , but he wasn’t sure how many. “What was that, Dean?” Sam tapped his boot on the concrete, the thin hollow sound echoing through the chamber.

“I said, five months, Sam.” Dean yelled. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Dean stalked toward his brother and stood inches away from his face. “Did you want to hear how he took me, Sam? You rarely do. He took and he took. I gave myself as a sacrifice to him. My soul fueled his borrowed Grace until a few days ago. We found his Grace and now, Cas is suited up and good to go. You’ve gotta understand me, Sam-”

“No. You’ve gotta understand _me_ , Dean.” Sam spat and lowered his face to his older brother. “You could have told me- you _should_ have told me.”

Sam turned from his brother and moved toward Castiel. The Angel stood still, ready to take the brunt of whatever Sam was going to say.

“And you- you coulda told me. I would have understood.” Sam sobbed as his eyes flashed back to Hazel. Sam pulled his arms tighter around his body. “I can’t- I don’t- why?”

Sam fell to his knees as he sobbed uncontrollably into his hands. He felt gentle, calloused hands running up and down his back. Sam closed his eyes as the overwhelming scent of gun oil and leather permeated his senses. He felt a gentle press of lips to his hair.

“Shhh…. Sam… It’s okay.” Dean ran his hands down Sam’s back and came to a stop at Sam’s waist. “I’m so sorry, little brother. I meant to tell, honest. But then-” Dean’s voice broke. “It just got away from me. I never meant to hurt you. Promise.”

Sam nodded and turned toward his brother on the cold, unforgiving floor. “I need to leave, Dean.” Sam whispered into his brother’s neck. “Just for a little while. Wrap my head around things. You’ll be busy in Hell anyway, what with the restructuring and all.

Sam cleared his throat and wiped his running nose on the sleeve of his flannel. “I can’t be around you right now, Dean. The lies… The deceit… You’ve fucked me over before- _Promised_ this time was different. That we were in this _Together_. I just can’t-” Sam pulled away from Dean’s embrace and stood. “I’ll just go get my stuff. Stay in a motel for a while.”

“Sam-” Dean’s voice rang through the dungeon. “Cas- back me up on this.”

“I cannot Dean. I do not know what to say. This is something that Sam needs to come up with on his own.” Castiel moved toward Dean. Sam figured they needed a moment and wanted to present a unified front.

“Well, you were supposed to show him.” Dean hissed.

Sam had his hand on the knob, ready to leave, when he heard Dean’s statement. He turned to face the two. “Show me what?” Sam questioned, his voice rough from crying.

“Our bond.” Dean gestured between himself and the Angel.

“Your bond?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Remember how Cas said that he and I had a more profound bond?” Dean rolled his eyes as Sam nodded. “Well, that day Cas showed us our bond, he was masking the bond between me and him. It has been there since he marked my soul when he pulled me out of Hell. The bond between you and me is stronger of course, since we are two halves of the same whole, but my soul kept Cas alive when he should have burnt out months ago. I understand that you are upset, Sam. I would be too. The lies and shit are pulling us apart. I get that if you need to leave….” Dean walked up to his brother and pulled him into a bear hug. Sam tentatively wrapped his arms around his brother’s waist.

“I do, Dean. Let me get my stuff. Give me some time, okay?” Sam pulled away and walked to the door. He seriously thought that Dean would try to stop him. No one said a word as Sam turned the knob and walked through the door.

** **

**~~..~~..~**

Dean sat in the ‘Throne Room’, a parade of Demons came through all day to give reports; Things were running as smooth as possible, though Dean knew things would be even smoother with Sam by his side. His younger brother had been gone for three weeks now. Dean knew he was okay. He had a lower level Demon delivering blood to him in a motel outside Omaha twice a week since he left. Sam had never tried to hide from Dean. He had gone as far as to pray to Castiel and let him know the address and room number to the motel he was staying at. This helped Dean greatly. He kept a detail on Sam at all times. The delivery people that came to the door were Dean’s men. The people Sam interacted with at the Grocer were Dean’s men. And, Sam knew it. Two weeks in he had a Demon deliver a message to Dean. Sam said thank you for making things easier for him, for giving him the space to deal with things. Dean smiled at the note. He kept it next to his chair, a reminder that Sam was gone, but not forever.

“My King,” Dean was roused from his memory by the Head of the Crossroads Demons. Dean vaguely recalled his name was Seth.

“Yes, Seth? What news do you bring?” Dean rolled his eyes. He never realised how much bullshit he had to wade through being King of Hell.

“The Crossroads Demons are finally in line. They understand the consequences of collecting on a Contract early. No one gets a Contract of less than Five Years. No more six months… or one year… They fully understand after Sara.” The demon shuddered at the memory of Sara’s torture. Dean chuckled at the stupidity of some Demons. Sara had made a deal with the mother of a cancer patient. A two year old, pediatric cancer patient- for one year. Sara then felt the need to collect after just one short week. Dean knew the mother was desperate.

Because of what Sara did, the current King of Hell extended her Contract out to not be collected until her daughter reached adulthood. It was the least he could do. Hell was still a nasty place that bad people went to, but at least it’s King was fair.

“Good. Now, get out of my sight. Bring in Peter. I want an update on Sam.”

****  
  


**Only Then I am Human**

****   


 

Sam stepped into the large cavern. When he had been in Hell last time getting Bobby, he had been nowhere near this place. And rightfully so. It was obviously the room of a King. The floor was rough hewn stone and the walls were dark with condensation. Sam thought that Dean would probably want to change the look, but maybe he was waiting for something. He continued down the center aisle, the chair of the current King of Hell, his brother, unoccupied in front of him. He heard shouts off to his right. It sounded like directions were being given in an antechamber.

Sam took two more steps forward and was glad that he stopped when he did. A chair blocked his path within seconds. Sam watched two Demons struggle with the heavy stone appliance. It looked exactly like the one on the dais. Sam wondered what was wrong with the chair that Dean needed a new one. He stood still while the two Demons wrestled to the chair into place next to Deans and wandered off. No one even took notice of him. Sam nearly missed it when his brother entered the vast chamber from the room where the chair had come from. The only reason he noticed was that the hole in his chest no longer ached. He felt complete for the first time in nearly a month. Sam watched in shadow as Dean swiveled his head back and forth looking for his brother.

Sam stepped from the shadows. “Dean…” His voice broke with emotion. Sam had missed his brother something fierce since he left the Bunker the day they killed Crowley. He knew his brother immediately took over duties as the King of Hell. There were plenty of problems going on under Crowley’s reign that Dean felt the need to be corrected right away. Sam knew that Hell was running better than it ever had.

There were still new Demons being created; however, there was no longer chaos and anarchy. Sam knew that Heaven was running smoothly as well. He had been praying to Castiel and seeking understanding these last few weeks.

Castiel had provided clarity to the situation between Dean and himself. Sam didn’t fully understand it, but Castiel had said that Dean didn’t either. It was probably Castiel’s fault as well, as he didn’t fully explain the situation to the brothers.

Sam had decided to forgive Castiel and his brother as they were the last two people left that he could call family. Sam smiled as he was bombarded with a little over six feet of solid muscle. Dean had slammed into Sam so hard that he had knocked the wind out him. Sam immediately wrapped his arms around his brother and held on with all his might. Tears streamed from his eyes onto his brother’s hair.

He appreciated that Dean kept an eye out for him, that he made sure he had blood- _his_ blood, twice a week. Dean had people everywhere. The Gas n Sip, the Grocer, Sam’s favorite takeaway joints, all Dean’s Demons. Sam wondered if the people running the Motel 6 outside of Omaha were Humans that worked closely with Demons. Sam knew that Crowley employed the practice from time to time.

He pulled his brother tighter and placed both hands on Dean’s cheeks. “Brother.” He sighed. “Or.. should I say _My King_.”

“Sammy.” His brother finally spoke. “I- I missed you so much. You don’t even know.”

Dean sobbed into Sam’s shoulder. Sam tilted his brother’s head and looked into his eyes. Sam’s flashed from Hazel to Black and back again. Dean smiled and flashed his Black and left them. He surged forward and wrapped his hands around his brother’s face and kissed him with all the emotion his body could muster. Sam relished the feeling of petal soft lips on his. He smiled as Dean mapped his mouth with his tongue.

“We should-” Dean pulled away slightly and ghosted his breath over Sam’s neck. “Your chair is here. We should break it in.”

Sam noded and walked his brother backwards toward the dais. He pushed Dean down into his chair and straddled his lap.

“This one?” Sam kissed his brother. “This one’s mine?”

Dean nipped at Sam’s lips and nodded. “First time Co-Kings of Hell, baby boy. You and me forever.”

Sam moaned and pressed his erection into his brother’s groin. He didn’t care who saw him. He finally felt Human again.

The End…. This may be the end of our story, but it’s not the end of this tale.

**Epilogue: Only Then I am Free**

****   


 

****20 years later****

Sam sighed as he ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. He glanced toward the drivers seat of the Impala and smiled. His brother insisted on driving everywhere. Sam could even sometimes teleport if he concentrated hard enough. Hell was running very smoothly with the two of them in charge, even smoother than when it was just Dean running it.

Their sex life was good, there had been no shortage of being walked in on by various underlings. They had a bedroom, even if it was just for sex and to cuddle since neither of them needed to sleep anymore.  Sam and Dean were still Hunting. It was pretty much just vengeful spirits and Monsters, but it helped Dean relax.

The Demons were quiet. They still possessed at will, but not as many people and only when Dean and Sam deemed it necessary. Dean also monitored possessions closely. No one could possess a Human without Dean knowing about it.

Heaven, Sam guesses was running smoothly as well. It had been about a year or so since Sam had talked to Hannah and when he saw Castiel, they never talked about day to day operations. They did talk a lot about what was going on in Hell, and what was going on with Dean. For a time, Sam worried that he would totally lose his brother to the Mark. Andr they talked about how Dean and Sam’s relationship was going. Sure they had their fights, what couple doesn’t. Things were going well between the two of them. They ruled well as a team. Sam has learned to read Dean better than he ever had, and can predict when he needed to pray to Castiel to come and deal with Dean.

Yeah, Castiel and Dean… Castiel is still in love with Dean, that much Sam knew. They still got together. Not as much as they used to, Castiel didn’t need him to counter any borrowed Grace, but Dean did need someone to take command. Sam could do it occasionally, but not as aggressive as Dean needed it. That, Sam left to Castiel.

He was pretty accepting of their relationship. Sam knew that they were having sex, sometimes frequently. He was now okay with it. It _did_ take a couple of years for Sam to reconcile his feelings regarding it. Dean had wanted Sam to join in a few times, but Sam declined. He just couldn’t look at Castiel that way. He was happy, however, that Dean had that outlet in his life. Sam was very happy with his life.

**For the first time, he felt free.**

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**Author's Note:**

> Here is the link to [nomercles](http://nomercles.livejournal.com/228162.html) Art Masterpost on Live Journal


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